


Harry Who?

by BananaShark7 (PurpleCrayon)



Series: Harry Who? [1]
Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, Completed, F/M, Solo Harry Styles, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 15:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 53,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleCrayon/pseuds/BananaShark7
Summary: Ellie Wilson was never a fan of One Direction, so when Harry Styles walked into the book store she worked nights at, she didn't think twice. When she realized Harry wasn't exactly looking for a book, she had to wonder if this cute boy with long hair and dimples was just looking to have a bit of fun, or something more serious. Bored with her job, and the way her life was going, Ellie was up for any adventure this cute green-eyed boy wanted to take her on.Starts in fall 2015, ends....later : )(It was written in summer/fall 2017)(Imported from OneDirectionFanfiction.com, also posted on a few other sites - not stolen)





	1. Introduction

   


# Harry Who?

## Introduction

 

  
It was no secret that One Direction was in town. Girls (all of whom seemed to think it was okay to stop in to the 24 hour bookstore I worked nights at to use our bathroom) lined up outside their hotel waiting to catch a glimpse of one of them. Occasionally one of the fans would buy a book to read to pass the time waiting, so I can’t complain. However, I could have done without the difficulty finding a parking spot and having to walk nearly half a mile from my car to the bookstore at night because some teen-aged girls had parked in all the store’s parking spots.

Around 2:30 AM on day two of the Directioner’s occupation, I got a knock on the back door of the book store. It was a little unusual, but the store was empty, so I cautiously made my way to the back door, which I usually only used for taking out the trash or accepting book deliveries. I opened the door a crack and was faced with two large guys dressed in black. _‘Damn, this is how I die_ ’ I thought, and grabbed the closest thing I could find to a weapon: an umbrella.  
“Is the store empty?” One of the guys asked.

I froze and didn’t know how to respond. I tightened my grip on the umbrella and jabbed it through the door at the two men. “We don’t have any money here, and I’m calling the police!” I shrieked and slammed the door. I leaned my back against the door and slowly slid to the ground as I tried to reach for my phone.

But they knocked again. “I’m sorry miss! We just wanted to know if the store was empty so they don’t get attacked by any fans!”

 _‘What? Fans?’_ I stood up and slowly opened the door. The two really big dudes were still there, with two other smaller guys, both snickering. “She nearly got you, mate,” the one with shorter hair said.

“Sorry, I should have explained, we’re with One Direction’s security detail. A couple of the boys wanted to pick up a few books.” He held up his hands as he spotted the umbrella still clutched in my hand. “I probably should have called ahead.”

I nodded; he should have called ahead. “I’ll just lock the front door, and close the blinds, so the girls outside won’t see them. Do you want me to turn the light’s off too?”

“Um, no that’s fine.” The one with longer hair said. “How would we see the books?” He added with a shy smirk.

Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, but damn he had a cute dimple! I think I might have blushed, so I turned around to start locking up the store for our guests. _‘So this is what all those girls outside have been waiting to see…’_ I was beginning to understand, and it kind of scared me. ‘ _I’m not a teen-aged girl? I don’t like boy-bands?’_

“Sorry miss…?” He appeared again, taking me by surprise. _‘Damn that accent’_

“Ellie,” I answered.

“Ellie, that’s a nice name. I’m Harry,” he smiled, and the dimples came out again. “My mate Louis and I are looking for a book.”

I nodded and smiled, trying to remember my customer service manners, considerably failing. “Well, this is a good place to find books.” No flirting with customers! I took a deep breath. “What title are you interested in?”

“ _You Get so Alone at Times that it Just Makes Sense_ ” he started, and I nodded.

 _‘It’s like he’s looking directly into my soul’_ I thought, but he continued.

“By Charles Bukowski,” he added.

I nodded, I should have known that was a book title, but honestly I wasn’t too into working at the bookstore and had not committed the entire stock to memory. “I believe that would be right over here.” I started to lead him to the aisle and he called out to his friend.

“Louis! This cute librarian found our book!” He shouted, and Louis came running over.

“I’m actually not a librarian, this is just a bookstore.” I corrected, but they kept talking.

“I’m going to get this cute teddy bear for my girlfriend,” Louis held up a stuffed bear and squeezed it. “It says ‘I love you!’ when you squeeze it!”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Wow, so you’re at that stage now? Saying the ‘L’ word?”

Louis shrugged. “We’ve been saying it for weeks.”

“But you’ve only been dating a few weeks?” Harry looked confused, but Louis shrugged and moved on. “I don’t understand him sometimes,” he said to me quietly.

I laughed, hoping that was a joke, and he smiled again. “So, I think this is the book you’re looking for. It does not say I love you when you squeeze it,” I smiled crookedly.

Luckily he caught onto my lame attempt at humor and smirked again. “Good, it’s for my girlfriend of five years, and we’re not ready to say it yet.”

We both laughed, and Louis in the next aisle over, shouted, “I heard that!” and shot Harry a teasing look as I rang up their merchandise.

“Just kidding, I don’t have a girlfriend.” He bit his lip shyly and looked away. “I feel like I should clarify that, so it’s not awkward when I ask for your number. You know, so you don’t hit my bodyguard with an umbrella next time I want a book.”

“Right,” I blushed again, and searched for a pen. “Sorry about that.” I nodded toward his guard. I scratched my number on the receipt and tucked it in his book.

“See you around,” Harry winked as they filed out the back door into the alley, leaving me, once again, alone in the bookstore.

_‘Why shouldn’t I find this random long-haired guy with an adorable dimple cute? So what if he’s in a boy band?’_


	2. Introduction

_*This book is rubbish. Can I pop in for a different one?  
_  
Not 20 minutes after they’d left I received a text from what must have been Harry. I caught myself smiling and wondered if he really wanted another book or if he wanted to see me.  
  
 _‘Why would he want to see me?’_  I thought and shook my head, assuming I had imagined the chemistry between us. Perhaps working nights and not having enough human interaction was starting to get to my head, but I texted back.  
  
 _*I just finished reopening the store….. Give me a minute to get it locked up again  
  
*Thnx I’ll be right down  
_  
Ignoring the fluttering in my heart and convincing myself he really wanted a book, I set about locking the door and closing the curtains to keep the Directioners at bay. Just when I had started to convince myself this was a routine book sale with a regular customer, a knock on the door sent my heart aflutter again.  
  
 _‘Damn, Ellie, get yourself together!’_  I mentally scolded myself and walked to the back door. I opened it an inch to ensure it was in fact him, (and surprisingly just him, no security) before letting him into the shop.  
  
“No security guard this time?” I was surprised he was allowed out on his own.  
  
“You scared him off with your umbrella,” he teased with a cute smile, and that adorable dimple appeared on his cheek again. “No, actually he doesn’t know I left.”  
  
So he snuck out just to get a book? Seems suspicious, but I tried to keep my head on straight. Perhaps it was because he was out on his own unprotected, or because he wasn’t with his friend, but he seemed a little less secure, less sure of himself. I shrugged it off and let him wander the shelves.  
  
“Ellie,” he asked after finding his way to the register where I was sitting at the counter reading a book.  
  
“Hmm?” I looked up from my book to see his soft greenish-gray eyes looking back at me.  
  
“Can you help me find a book?” He asked.  
  
I found my bookmark and set my book down to give him my full attention. “Sure. It’s not like it’s my job or anything.”  
  
“That’s cheeky.” He smiled, and I felt myself losing my grip on my confidence. My attempt at humor was my only defense, and even that was failing. “What’re you reading?” He turned his head to try to read the title on the spine of my book.  
  
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” blushing, I pulled the book off the counter.  
  
“It’s not that 50 Shades book, is it?” He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Because if it is, you’d be right; that’s not my cup of tea.”  
  
I laughed and put the book back on the counter. “It’s just a Nicholas Sparks novel, you know, the guy who wrote The Notebook.”  
  
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about; I love that movie!” He smiled, and pulled the book closer to look at the cover.  
  
“So, if you didn’t like that last book you got, what exactly is your cup of tea?” I asked, using the phrase he’d used earlier because it made me feel smart.  
  
“Someone recommended that book to me, but I’m not really in the mood for poetry.” He put my book down and glanced at the display of new books on the counter.  
  
“Then what are you in the mood for?” I asked, and realized that could be taken out of context, and almost hoped he would take it out of context. Maybe that was what he actually wanted and the book was a ruse?  
  
“I don’t know. I’m just….” he stared off at nothing for a moment. “I guess I’m lonely.”  
  
 _‘Be professional, Ellie, do not offer to have sex with him!’_  I mentally reminded myself and tried to come up with a witty comeback. “The self-help section is right over there; I’m sure we have a book on how to make friends.” I teased, which drew a small smile from him and he returned his gaze to me. “How are you lonely? Aren’t you surrounded by people all the time?”  
  
He shook his head and looked down at his hands, and I noticed his nails were painted. I’m not sure why, but this endeared him to me; the way he ran his fingernail along the edge of the cracking nail polish on his thumb seemed like such a normal and relatable action, something I’d done hundreds of times when my nails were painted. “Yeah, but most of them are paid to be around us, not to be our friends,” he answered without looking up.  
  
“What about the other guys in the band? There are, what, five of you? You must get along with one of them.”  
  
“Actually, we’re just four now; Zayn’s gone solo.” A hint of a smile crept across his lips. “I don’t usually have to explain that; it’s kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know everything about us.”  
  
“All I know about you guys I have learned from your fans who sit outside my store with their signs, and come in to use our bathroom.” I explained, and felt a little proud for not knowing a thing about One Direction or its members.  
  
“Uh oh, I hope it’s all complimentary?” He smiled warily.  
  
“Nothing serious, just everyone you’ve ever dated, all those times you got arrested, and I think there was mention of a girl you knocked up?” I teased and shook my head. “Just kidding, though there was a lot of talk about some guy named Larry?”  
  
He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. “You remember the guy I was in here with before?”  
  
“Louis? Yes, that was only like, 45 minutes ago. He bought a cute teddy bear for his girlfriend and paid way too much for it.”  
  
He laughed. “Yeah, well, a number of our fans think he and I are, uh, in a relationship together.”  
  
“Oh.” He’d stopped smiling, so I wasn’t sure how I should respond. Was he trying to come out to me?  
  
Sensing my trepidation, he clarified: “We’re not, but we used to be close friends, and I guess that’s how it started.”  
  
“So Larry is a combination of your names, that’s clever,” I pointed out, and thought ‘So this is why he’s lonely’. It got quiet for a moment. “Listen, about that book you wanted, I honestly have no suggestions, sorry.”  
  
He smiled and shook his head. “I just wanted an excuse to come down here again and talk to you.”  
  
“That’s very sweet of you.” I tried to play it cool, even though I was everything but cool. “It does get pretty lonely.”  
  
“I’m guessing your usual clientele this time of night is not usually in the mood for conversation?”  
  
“If I have any customers, they are often college students trying to finish up an assignment last minute, homeless people, angsty youths who don’t have anywhere better to be, and lately, a lot of your fans. They’re actually better than the usual crowd (since they usually pay for their merchandise), so, thank you, I guess?” I cocked my head, raised an eyebrow and laughed.  
  
“Glad we could help.” He smiled and leaned on the counter, nervously playing with his nails again. “Maybe you’re just being polite to me because it’s your job and I’m a customer, but I really like talking to you. Would you, (after your shift is over of course) maybe want to come up to my room?” He bit his lip as he finished his question, as if to stop himself from saying any more.  
  
I swallowed hard. This was it; he was finally coming clean with his intentions. Honestly, it had been awhile since I’d gotten laid and I would definitely have taken him up on his offer, but I didn’t want to seem like ‘that girl.’ “Harry, we just met, maybe we should-”  
  
His bright eyes shot open and he interrupted me apologetically. “Sorry, not what I meant at all, that was really misleading. I meant we could get some food, breakfast or dinner, whatever you eat at this time of day?” This time he bit both of his lips, making his lips appear a thin line, to shut himself up.  
  
“Right,” I laughed and felt my cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. “Of course. Normally I get breakfast with my roommate when I get home, before she goes to work.”  
  
He smiled. “Breakfast it is, then. What time should I expect you? I’m just staying next door, we’re on the top floor.”  
  
“Yeah, I know where you’re staying. That’s why they’re all outside waiting to see you,” I gestured toward the curtained windows, where hundreds of Directioners were camped out just outside. “But, I get off at 7, so I could be up there by 7:15?”  
  
“7:00 AM? Blimey, I’ll try to be awake then, okay,” he nodded and checked the time. “That’s in like, three and a half hours. Who needs sleep anyway?” He joked.  
  
“Do you normally stay up this late?” I asked. He didn’t seem tired at all, but I knew nothing about the lifestyle of the one of the world’s biggest pop stars.  
  
He shrugged. “We’re working on a new album, so we’re up at odd hours.”  
  
“As long as it’s not inconvenient, I’ll see you around 7:15.” I smiled, and he nodded as he ducked back out the door into the alley.  
  
 _‘Damn. Three and a half hours’_ I thought as I, once again, opened up the store again. _‘So he didn’t want a book after all….’_


	3. Harry's Hairbrush

Breakfast turned into lunch as Harry decided we needed to watch 'Dear John', the book I had been reading when Harry visited the bookstore. Luckily, I had no interest in finishing the book, and hadn't really been that into it in the first place. So I agreed. It has Channing Tatum, so why not?

  
But, working the night shift has it's downfalls, and near the end of the movie I fell asleep. When I awoke several hours later, Harry was gone. _'Good, he didn't hang around to watch me sleep'_ I thought as I sat up and ran my hands through my hair to get some of the tangles out. I wandered into his bathroom to see if he had a hairbrush I could borrow. With those luscious locks he had to have one, right?  
  
As expected, a hairbrush sat on the edge of the sink and I picked it up. "This will work better than trying to use my fingers."  
  
"What?"  
  
I froze. I thought I'd been alone and stupidly talked to myself out loud. But I knew that voice from somewhere.... "Louis?"  
  
He poked his head into the bathroom and smiled. "Sorry to surprise you... uh, what were you going to do with that hairbrush?" He eyed me curiously.  
  
"Brush my hair?" I replied. Was Harry very possessive of his hairbrushes? Or maybe he had lice and Louis was warning me?  
  
"Oh, okay. Because it kind of sounded liked.... Never mind." He shook his head and left.  
  
Confused, I followed him out of the bathroom. "Sounded like what? Did you think I'd steal it?"  
  
"God, no, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything," he apologized. "It just sounded a little strange, because you said something about it being better than your fingers... I mean, I know Harry doesn't usually put out to just anyone, so I get it-"  
  
I shook my head and held up my hands to get him to stop talking. "Ew, no I was not about to do _that_ with his hairbrush! Why would you even think that?"  
  
He shrugged, and tried to mask a smirk. "You were talking in your sleep."  
  
Damn, this keeps getting worse! "How long were you watching me sleep?"  
  
"Relax, I wasn't. I got here 15 minutes ago. Harry forgot his phone charger, but he's recording so he asked me to get it. But you were, kinda, sleeping on it, so I waited on the balcony, and came in when I saw you were up. Now that you're awake, I'll get it and leave you with his hairbrush." He teased as he retrieved Harry's charger from the bed.  
  
I looked back at his hair bush after Louis left and decided not to brush my hair after all. 'I should probably just go home.' Today had been weird enough, and I really wanted to sleep in my own bed.

_*Dinner?_  
  
I was awoken by Harry's text several hours later. As my mind slowly woke up I realized he was asking me to dinner. Like a date? My brain spun, but couldn't stop my hands from texting him back, asking when and where.  
  
_*I can't exactly go out, so maybe you could bring some take away?_  
  
He replied, quickly followed with:  
  
_*I'll pay you back, if you want_  
  
Now that I was fully awake, I crafted a response that would hopefully determine if this was a date or not:  
  
_*We'll split it. What would you like?_  
  
He instantly answered:  
  
_*My treat, I insist. Surprise me ;)_  
  
So if he's paying, it's a date? And what does surprise me mean! Ugh, I hate making decisions like this. What if he doesn't like it? What if he's allergic and I accidentally kill Harry Styles?

When he answered he did not, I decided to go with Chinese. Who doesn't like Chinese food? I called an order in to my favorite place, which was conveniently on the way to his hotel, and hopped in the shower.

When I arrived at the hotel I texted him I'd gotten to his floor so his security would let me through.

_*Meet me in the hallway_

Confused, I walked the halls of the top floor until I found him. "That was weird, but okay?" I laughed when I caught up to him.

"This staircase leads to the roof," he explained, as if that answered my question. "We're just in time to watch the sun set, I think." He led me up the stairs to the hotel roof and over to a few chairs near a table. "I'm not entirely sure we're supposed to be up here, but I couldn't stay in that hotel room any longer."

"It's pretty nice up here. I've never seen the bookstore from his angle. It looks so...small." I frowned and looked down at the tiny store surrounded by bigger buildings, and wondered if maybe that was somehow a metaphor for my life at this moment.

"What did you get us for dinner?" He asked, interrupting my introspection.

I handed him the take out and he opened the bag to take a look. "Jesus, how much did you buy?" He inspected the small white containers one by one as he set them on the table

"Well, I wasn't sure what you'd like. And, since you said you were paying, I figured I'd get a lot," I teased and pretend to smile innocently.

He made a teasing face and quickly glanced at the bill before reaching for his wallet. "This ought to cover it, keep the change."

"Holy shit Harry, this did not cost $200!"

"Consider it a tip? That's something Canadians do, right?" He shrugged. "A delivery fee?"

"Yes, but-" I shoved half of it back toward him, "I can't accept that."

"This is our last show in Canada and I have way too much extra Canadian money, just take it." He waved it off like it was nothing, but I continued to try to give it back to him.

"Then save it for the next time One D goes on tour."

He stopped resisting and let me leave the money in his open hand. "Actually, we might not be touring again for a while. We're thinking of taking a break."

He looked away, and it was quiet for a moment. It almost sounded like he was talking about breaking up with his long-time girlfriend, and I did not know how to respond. "Well, I'm sure you'll be back in Canada at some point. Just keep it."

A smile slowly cracked across his face and he lifted his eyes to meet mine. "Have I told you how nice it is to talk to someone who doesn't care about One Direction?" He laughed and pulled out a chair for me to sit down. He reached for something under the table. "I hope you like red wine, because I can't stand white." He put a bottle and two glasses on the table.

"Thanks, I guess I like red." I had only had cheap wine, and whatever kind this was looked expensive enough it had to be delicious (and it was!). "So, I'm guessing your break is not something I should tell anyone about?" I asked as we started eating. "Like, all those girls camping outside the bookstore?" I teased.

He nearly spit out his lo mein. "God no," he laughed, but the smile melted. "Actually, they should be out of your hair pretty soon. Our last show is tomorrow night, so, we're heading out soon after."

It was slowly sinking in what he was trying to tell me. This was it. "Oh." I looked down at my General Tso's and suddenly didn't feel like eating it anymore. Maybe because I'd drained that first glass of delicious wine too fast, and was well into my second, but I realized just how much I liked being around that cute long-haired boy with a dimple.

_'Fuck'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the opportunity to use a song title from this new album and I took it, I hope you don’t think it’s too cheesy. I hope to write some possible ‘experiences’ that may have led to some of the songs on his new album, but honestly I have no idea what I’m doing : )


	4. Anne of Green Gables is Actually a Vampire

 We stayed on the roof until I had to go to work at 11. We talked and watched the sun set, slowly finishing up that bottle of wine. When I got cold, he dashed down to his hotel room to grab me a “jumper,” as he called it. When he returned with a comfy looking sweater, I realized he did not mean jumper cables.

  
“So, am I going to get any surprise visits at work tonight?” I asked as I settled into his sweater, which felt like I was constantly getting a hug.  
  
“Maybe, I can’t make any promises,” he gave a sly smile. “We have a show tomorrow night, so I probably shouldn’t stay up all night again.” His mouth curved back into a mischievous smile as he got an idea. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”  
  
“Nothing. Saturday night is my day off.”  
  
“Would you like to visit me at work?” He grinned.  
  
I raised my eyebrows. “You want me to go to a One Direction concert?”  
  
He shrugged. “You might like it.”  
  
“You’re a bit optimistic, eh?” I teased.  
  
“Hey, many of those girls would kill for a free backstage pass,” he pointed toward the front of the hotel where their fans were camped out.  
  
“Then I guess I’d better be careful.”  
  
His eyes lit up. “So you’ll come?”  
  
“Why not? What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I shrugged, and he leapt forward to hug me.  
  
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it worth your while,” Harry winked as he pulled out of the hug.  
  
(And damn, they certainly did)  
  
  
At work that night, after our dinner, I resisted the urge to listen to their music, just so I’d know what I was getting into. I preferred to be completely surprised. Besides, I hate it when live music doesn’t live up to my expectations after listening to the studio version, so I didn’t want to ruin it for myself. I also didn’t want Harry to catch me listening to it when he visited, though it would be hard for him to sneak into the store without going past all the Directioners out front.  
  
He showed up around midnight, claiming he already missed my witty comebacks and snarky sense of humor. “Thanks, I missed you too,” I replied sarcastically, though I actually had missed him.  
  
“I can’t stay long tonight, unfortunately, but I needed to drop this off.” He placed the back stage pass into my hand. “Bring some ID so they know it’s really you. You know, in case one of them sneaks in and steals it from you,” he teased, and that adorable dimple came out with his smirk.  
  
“Wow, this is official looking.” I turned it over to inspect. It even had my name on it, right next to ‘Guest of Harry Styles.’ This made my heart flutter again, for some reason.  
  
“That’s because it is,” he laughed. “Okay, before they realize I’m gone, what book do you think I should bring with me for the trip?”  
  
_‘Oh, right. He’s leaving. Thanks for reminding me, Harry.’_  
  
“ _Twilight_ ” I offered with a smirk, and he scrunched his nose.  
  
“No thanks, maybe something without vampires?”  
  
“No vampires? Then I’m out of ideas, hun, sorry.” I raised my eyebrow.  
  
“All the books in this bookstore are about vampires?” He jokingly asked. “What about this one?” He grabbed a book off the new book display, and it was clearly a biography.  
  
“Yeah, she’s actually a vampire. She was bitten in her mid-30s, that’s her secret to looking young.”  
  
“Oh really?” Harry and I laughed, and he found another book. “What about this one?”  
  
“It looks like your typical dog training book, but it’s actually a manual for vampire’s who own dogs.” We laughed, and worked our way through the store picking random books to work vampires into. (Who knew Anne of Green Gables was actually a vampire?).  
  
We were interrupted by a knock on the back door, and Harry checked his phone. “Oh shit, my phone died. I bet they’re looking for me.”  
  
I opened the back door, and as expected, two of his security guards stood waiting with their arms crossed. “He’s here, isn’t he?”  
  
I nodded. “Sorry, we lost track of time.”  
  
“Can we just have a moment?” Harry asked them.  
  
“Harry, you said you’d be gone 20 minutes, it’s been an hour and 20 minutes.”  
  
He gave them a sad look, and even those two tough looking body guards couldn’t resist his puppy-dog eyes. “Okay, five minutes.”  
  
“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’ll be right out!”  
  
“I forgot to get a book,” he said as he turned back to me. “And, also-” he placed his hands on my shoulders and quickly leaned in to kiss me. It was short, and very sudden, but I swear there were fireworks going off somewhere in my brain. He pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “I should have done that after our date, or earlier tonight, but I didn’t, I was nervous, and now it was rushed, sorry-”  
  
“So it was a date!” I interrupted his nervous rambling. “I wasn’t sure if dinner was meant to be a date or not.”  
  
“Really?” He joked. “We had dinner, alone, on top of a building, with wine, and watched a sunset; how is that not a date?”  
  
I shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t sure going into it what you expected.”  
  
“Sorry, next time I’ll be more obvious,” he smiled as he continued to tease me. “I’ll have candles and roses, and maybe I’ll get the guys to sing a love song for you.”  
  
“Would they do that?”  
  
“For me? No, probably not,” he laughed.  
  
“Then you’ll have to do it yourself,” I joked, but he started to look a little more serious.  
  
“Really? Ellie, if that’s what you want…” he cleared his throat, and I tried to stop him, but he broke into the most off-key and horrible version of ‘Lady’ by Styx I have ever heard. A banging on the back door cut his serenade short after just a few lines, and we both nearly fell over giggling.  
  
“Harry! Stop singing, let’s go!”  
  
“I still need a book. If I come back empty handed I’ll never hear the end of it.” He turned around and grabbed the first book he could find. “Anne of Green Gables?”  
  
“But it’s the one with vampires,” I reminded him with a smirk.  
  
“I know that’s not true, but alright I’ll take it,” he said and threw some cash in my hand. He pecked my cheek, and with a quick goodbye, he was off out the back door with his bodyguards.  
  
Alone in the store once again, I remained stationary for a few moments, his money still in my hand, letting it all sink in. ‘He sang to me’ my heart fluttered. It had only been about 20 seconds, and he was clearly trying to sound bad… right? I was again tempted to listen to some One D, just to be sure, but I’d find out soon enough. I double checked to make sure the backstage pass was still in my pocket and rung up Harry’s book in the register, which he had again left me way too much money for.  
  
_‘Is this boy trying to pay me off?’_ I jokingly thought, and settled in for a long, lonely night behind the cash register. My only customers were a couple of girls crying because it was One Direction’s last night in town. ‘ _Same, teen-aged girl_ ’ I thought, _‘same.’_


	5. The Best Dog Ever

 

Watching a One Direction concert from backstage is probably not the ideal location to get the full experience, but it was exactly where I wanted to be that night. The unlimited, free, alcoholic beverages certainly helped, and by the end I was singing along with every song, making up the words as I went.  
  
“You must be Harry’s girl?” The Irish one asked as he came off stage when the show ended and gave me a high five.  
  
“His girl?” I giggled, starting to feel my cheeks go numb after the alcohol. “I guess so.”  
  
“I’m Niall,” he introduced himself.  
  
“Thanks.” I smiled, and he looked at me oddly before walking away to put his guitar away. _‘Why did I thank him??’_ I thought, and waited for Harry. He and Louis exited the stage a few minutes later. Seeing me, Harry’s face lit up into a smile made of actual rainbows.  
  
“Ellie!” He opened his arms to welcome me into a hug.  
  
“Harry...you’re drenched?” I stepped away, and he looked down at his soaked shirt.  
  
“Oh, yeah, Louis threw his water bottle at me,” he gave Louis a nudge as we walked to the dressing room. “So, what did you think?”  
  
“Great! A lot of energy. You’re fans really love you guys,” I answered. “I’m happy that you sound better than before, at the bookstore. I was worried this was going to suck major balls.”  
  
Harry and I both laughed, but Louis looked confused. “You sang to her?”  
  
“Just for fun, I was trying to sound bad, don’t worry about it,” Harry answered quickly.  
  
“What was your favorite song?” Louis asked.  
  
“Ummm,” my mind suddenly went blank. “Well, I don’t really know any of the names of your songs, but… there was one, like, ‘The Best Dog Ever’ or something?”  
  
They both snickered, and even Niall, still putting his guitar away, laughed. “It’s actually, ‘The Best Song Ever’.” Harry corrected.  
  
“Well, if that’s how you feel… That’s a little conceited, don’t you think?” I teased.  
  
“No, that’s the title. It’s ‘Song’ not ‘Dog.’ But that would be a good song, maybe on our next album,” Harry added and Louis nodded.  
  
“We should write more songs about dogs. Speaking of which, did you see that dildo someone threw on stage?” Louis asked me. “It was massive!” He held up his hands to indicate the size.  
  
I shrugged. “Eh, it wasn’t too big.” They both stared at me in shock, a little smile forming on Harry’s lips. “I’m just kidding!”  
  
“How did dogs make you think of that?” Harry asked him and scrunched his nose in distaste.  
  
“They both began with ‘d’ don’t be gross,” Louis defended and gave Harry a light shove.  
  
“Is that kind of thing normal?” I asked once they’d settled down.  
  
They shrugged. “We’ve had worse. Usually it’s bras and stuff like that.”  
  
“Worse?” I didn’t even want to know.  
  
“Tampons,” Louis whispered.  
  
“Eww!!” I shrieked. “Like, uh, new ones, I hope?”  
  
“New?” Harry and Louis both looked confused, and I didn’t want to elaborate what that meant.  
  
“They were not used, if that’s what you’re asking,” Liam clarified. “And, we’ve got to bounce.”  
He put his hand on Louis’ shoulder.  
  
“Right, that thing.” Louis replied and started to follow him. “See you, Ellie!”  
  
“Looks like we’re all alone now,” I said, and from behind Harry somewhere, Niall shouted, “No, I’m still here! Don’t have sex yet!” as he quickly put his guitar away.  
  
I think Harry might have blushed, but it was hard to tell in the dim lighting. “I wasn’t planning on having sex in the dressing room, but if you insist, Niall...” Harry called back to him and pretended to unbutton his already half unbuttoned shirt.  
  
“Stop, not here,” I laughed and put my hand on his. He had a glint in his eye I hadn’t seen before, and maybe it was from the adrenaline from performing, or maybe it was something else, but his demeanor changed.  
  
“Really?” He asked quietly, and whether he intentionally bit his lip or not, I’m not sure, but it was all I needed.  
  
“Or, maybe here?” I asked and raised my eyebrow.  
  
“Yup, I’ll lock the door on my way out,” Niall announced as he made his way to the door.  
As the door clicked shut I felt his hands at the clasp of my bra, my shirt already on the floor. My fumbling hands got the last few buttons of his wet shirt undone and then got started on his tight black pants.  
  
“Harry,” I said as I tugged them off him. “I just want you to know that I consent, 100%, even though I have had a bit to drink.”  
  
He laughed, and helped me get his pants off. “Thanks, that’s good to know. I wasn’t worried, but I appreciate the clarification.”  
  
“Well, I didn’t want you to think you were using me?” I explained as he worked on removing the rest of my clothes. “I know this is your last night, and I’d understand if you wanted to have a one-night-stand kind of thing before you left town, and I don’t want you to feel guilty about it given my condition.”  
  
He stopped removing my sock and sat down on the couch next to me, clad only in his underpants. “Ellie, that’s not how I see this at all,” he looked a little sad, so I looked away. “I have really enjoyed the past few days with you, and I don’t want it to end just because I’m leaving Canada. I kind of hoped you felt the same way…”  
  
I bit my lip as I tried to figure out how to fix this. I’d hurt his feelings, that was the opposite of what I’d meant to do. “I do feel the same way, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to hook up with you because you’re, you know, Harry Styles.”  
  
He gave me a funny look, and the hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, that is why I like you. Because you’re you.” I corrected. “See, this is what I mean-- I’ve been drinking, but I know what I’m doing, I swear!”  
  
He nodded. “Alright, now that that’s cleared up, shall we…”  
  
“Start where we left off?” I nodded. “I have condoms in my purse if you need one. I always carry them, I wasn’t planning for this. I just like to be prepared.” He laughed as I pulled one out and tossed it to him.  
  
He looked it over and laughed. “Has it been a while, perhaps? It’s expired.” He got up to throw it away and rifled through some stuff on a table. “No worries, I think there’s a box of some around here somewhere.”  
  
I’m not sure why they keep condoms in their dressing room, perhaps this happened often? That thought did not cross my mind, honestly, there was not much happening in my head--not with what Harry was doing to me.  
  
***  
  
“Is this a butterfly?” I peeled my face off his chest once we’d caught our breath to get a better look at it. I had been a bit distracted before and didn’t really notice all the tattoos. I traced my finger around the edges of the butterfly and smiled. “I love butterflies,” I added quietly.  
  
“That tickles,” he replied sleepily. I looked up and his eyes were fluttering shut.  
  
“Perhaps we should get you back to your hotel room.” I started to get up, but he pulled me back.  
  
“Just a few more minutes. We head out around 3.”  
  
I checked my phone, and it was almost 2:00 AM. “Okay,” I replied and tucked my head back into the nook between his collarbone and jaw. We’d only known each other for a few days, but this felt so right, so comfortable, and I didn’t want it to end.  
  
  
***  
  
When we finally made it to the tour bus everyone was waiting for Harry.  
  
“If you want, I can leave you my hair brush in case you get lonely,” he teased with a smirk.  
  
‘Damn Louis!’ I thought. “That won’t be necessary, I’ll just use my fingers!” I teasingly waved my hands at him, but he looked confused.  
  
“What?” He cocked his head to the side and his hair flopped over his forehead.  
  
“Sorry, I thought Louis told you about… never mind.” I saw Louis coming over and I shut up.  
  
“I thought I heard my name. Did you get your hair sorted out?” He teasingly asked me.  
  
“Yes.” I nodded. “And thanks for not telling Harry the whole story about his hair brush.” I added sarcastically.  
  
“I’m still confused about it myself,” Louis shrugged.  
  
“I was running my hands through my hair to brush it! Never mind,” they were both laughing at me, so I gave up. Louis was called over to the tour bus, and Harry and I stood quietly for a moment.  
  
“So, I guess this is goodbye?” I looked up at him, and he had the same sadness in his eyes as I did.  
  
“For now,” he tried to smile. “I know we’ve only known each other a couple days, but I really think there’s something here, not to sound too cliche.”  
  
I shrugged and wrapped my arms around myself. We said we’d talk, but what more could really happen between us? A guy like him doesn’t even keep girls like me on the side, let alone actual dating. It had been a fun few days, and I was starting to accept that this was it. Despite my attempts not to touch him and further this connection, he leaned in to hug me goodbye. My arms unwillingly found themselves wrapped around him.  
  
_‘Okay, but no kissing, Ellie. That would be too much’._  
  
But, his hands slowly embraced my face gently, and after a moment of looking into each other’s eyes, our lips connected. And damn it was awesome. I didn’t want it to end, but the tour bus was waiting and Louis stuck his head out to yell at Harry.  
  
He pulled a way and we laughed at Louis, but our smiles melted. “I’ll see you later.”  
  
And with that he was off, only taking a look back to waive as he climbed on the bus.

 

 


	6. Hey There Elloise

 

The bookstore became an immensely dull void after Harry, One Direction, and their fans left. I went back to yelling at homeless people for sleeping in the nonfiction section and spent my nights reading the merchandise. At first, I tried to ignore the dull ache, the thought that maybe Harry would stop in for another book, but I knew he wasn’t coming back, he was off in Detroit, or wherever he said the next stop on their tour was.  
  
We texted, but our schedules (mainly his) kept us from talking too much. After a show, when he was still all hyped up, he’d sometimes call me at work and we’d talk until a customer came in, or he fell asleep.  
  
“You know what I miss most about Canada?” Harry asked one night.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Poutine,” he teased.  
  
“Shut up, Harry,” I laughed.  
  
“Just kidding, it’s you. Although, poutine is really freaking awesome.”  
  
“It is, maybe I’ll some grab for dinner on my way home from work,” I teased.  
  
“Ellie, I have a weird request. While you’re eating it, can you describe it to me in detail?” He jokingly asked.  
  
“Mmm, I’m putting the gravy covered fries in my mouth, and the cheese curds… there’re so many yummy cheese curds!” I teased. “I’ll put that in my new book, ‘ _Fifty Shades of Poutine’._ ”  
  
We both laughed until he got quiet for a moment. “Actually, I do have a real question for you. Is Ellie short for something?”  
  
“Um, yeah, it’s Elloise.” That’s weird. “Why do you want to know?”  
  
“Just curious,” he answered, and wouldn’t offer any other explanation.  
  
“So, is Harry short for anything? Like, Henry or Harold?” I felt I should ask, since he asked me.  
“Nope, it’s just Harry.”  
  
“Cool.” I wasn’t sure where to go with that, so I changed the subject. “So, how are you liking _Anne of Green Gables_?”  
  
“I haven’t gotten to the part where she turns into a vampire yet. I kind of think that’s not going to happen,” he pretended to sound disappointed.  
  
“No, she doesn’t get bitten until the third or fourth book.”  
  
“Does she ever get together with that Gilbert Blythe dude?” He asked. “Never mind, I don’t want to know, don’t spoil it for me.”  
  
“Actually, he’s the one that bites her.” I could almost hear he was smiling at my attempt at a joke.  
  
“It’s funny, my mum’s name is Anne. She’s nothing like this Anne, but,” he paused. “It kind of makes me miss her.”  
  
“You probably don’t get to see her too much, that sucks.”  
  
“No, I don’t, but we talk.” He answered quietly, and I could tell he was tired.  
  
I had a feeling that was how a lot of Harry’s relationships were, whether they were friendships, family members, or whatever we were, he didn’t see them much, but they talked. My throat started tightening as I realized I had no idea when, or if I would see him again. We hadn’t talked about that, but the way we left it when their tour bus rolled out of Ottawa, it really felt like he wanted to see me again.  
  
“Um, I have to go,” I said quietly, not trusting my voice.  
  
“Customer?” He asked.  
  
“Yeah,” I whispered, and we hung up. I didn’t want to, but I put my head down on the counter and cried.  
  
When I woke up for work the next evening I had an email from Harry. I thought it was odd, since we didn’t normally email, but he’d asked for my email address a few days ago, and I didn’t really question it.  
  
He wrote a short message:  
  
_“Hey there Elloise, I hope you like it_  
 _-H”_  
  
Attached was a video, and I was %100 not prepared for what it contained, but I blindly pressed play, thinking it was probably just a cute video of a puppy or something cute (Harry likes cute things).  
  
Yeah, it was a puppy, kinda, if you can call Harry a puppy, but it was incredibly, heartbreakingly, cute. He was sitting in a hotel room alone with a guitar.  
  
“Hey Ellie, sorry for being weird and asking for your full name, but Ellie didn’t fit right with the song.” With that, he looked down at the guitar and began playing. After the first few notes I recognized it as ‘Hey There Delilah’ by the Plain White T's, except Harry replaced ‘Delilah’ with ‘Elloise’. It was so beautiful, and he was so cute and adorable I had to stop it a few times I was crying too much. At the end, he just said, “I miss you,” before turning off the camera.  
  
I listened to it on repeat as I got ready for work, and considered calling out sick, so I could listen to him sing to me all night long, but I knew that probably would not be good for my mental health. I considered calling him, but decided a text was safer, in case I got emotional again.  
  
_*Thanks, that was really beautiful, I’m crying, but it was amazing_  
  
I couldn’t remember if he had a show tonight or not, so I wasn’t worried when he didn’t respond for a while. I downloaded his video onto my phone so I could listen to it at work (that was a bad idea). Once I was sure there were no customers in the shop, I gradually found myself listening to One Direction, trying to pick out Harry’s voice in every song.  
  
_‘What am I doing?’_  
  
Around 2AM Harry finally replied to my text.  
  
_*Sorry for making you cry_  
I’m not sure why, but his response made me laugh.  
  
_*Actually, Harry, you should apologize for making me fall for you so hard_  
  
He replied: *Hey, you started it  
  
What? _*No, you’re the one who came into my bookstore ‘looking for a book;’  
_  
_*guilty as charged ;) What are you doing next week  
  
*Working, why? I asked  
  
*Want to come to New York? We’re doing a couple shows around New York and I have a few days off in between  
_  
Yes, yes I did! But this was crazy, right? Flying to New York to see him for a couple days? But, when else would I see him? _*You’re insane, but okay :D_  
  
_*Awesome. Bring poutine ;)_

 


	7. New York Part 1

 On my flight to New York I kept thinking about that butterfly tattoo, and how I wanted to explore all of Harry's other tattoos. I wondered what he had planned for us. I'd never been to New York City before, so I wouldn't mind doing a little sightseeing. However, I don't think someone like Harry could just walk into the Statue of Liberty like any other tourist. If it were up to me, we would just spend the whole time at the hotel doing... well, each other? For lack of a better term. That had been on my mind since our last night together, and I realllly hoped he felt the same way. I even bought new condoms to replace the expired ones in my purse (just be to be safe).

  
I was met by one of his security guards at the airport, and he took me to Harry's hotel, where I waited for him to return from a rehearsal, or interview, I don't remember. But when he finally got back, I was so ready for him, I practically threw myself on him as he walked in the door.  
Later that evening, after we'd showered and gotten cleaned up, he said he had a surprise for me.  
  
"You didn't get me something, did you?" I frowned.  
  
"No, not really. Kinda?" He raised his eyebrow, not really answering my question.  
  
"What is it?" I sighed.  
  
"So, is it safe to assume you like hockey?" Harry asked with a mischievous grin. "You know, because you're Canadian?"  
  
"That's a bit of a stereotype," I pretended to give him a scolding look. "But, yeah, I love hockey. More than I care to admit." I bit my lip and tried to curb my enthusiasm; just talking about hockey could get me riled up.  
  
"Cool, because we're going to a hockey game tonight." He looked a tiny bit smug, like he was proud of his realization that a Canadian might want to go to a hockey game.  
  
"Nice. Who are we seeing?" I asked with an excited grin.  
  
"Well, this is New York, so, the Rangers."  
  
"Do you know who they're playing?" I asked, and he shrugged.  
  
"Another team, I assume?" He smiled, his smugness replaced with an embarrassed smile  
.  
"Well, it's the preseason, so they will most likely be playing someone within their division, the Metropolitan Division, and probably a nearby team...like the Islanders or the Devils." I shrugged. "Yeah, I like hockey, a lot."  
  
He raised his eyebrows and failed at masking a surprised smile. "You really know your stuff."  
  
"I come from a very hockey-oriented family. So, I just want to clarify this," I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "Is this like, our second date?"  
  
Harry laughed and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, this is a date." He wrapped his arm around me and started to lead me toward the door. "And we're going to be late if we don't leave now."  
  
We were led in through a back entrance, the one the hockey players used, and surrounded by several bodyguards and couple other people who's names I could not remember.  
  
"It's weird," Harry looked around the arena once we arrived. "We just did a show here last night."  
  
"It looks a little different, eh?" I looked up at him and smiled. "And a whole different kind of crowd is here tonight."  
  
"Yes, that is for sure," he laughed as we were escorted to our seats.  
  
I looked up at the scoreboard to see who the opponent was and my heart skipped a beat when I saw it was the Pittsburgh Penguins. _'No, it can't be... he's probably not even playing, right?'_ As the players came out on the ice for their warm up I kept my eyes peeled a number 23 jersey. Even though he normally plays for the Penguins' minor league team, in preseason games, like this one, other players sometimes get called up to 'try-out' playing in the NHL. I'm sure he would have told me if he was making his NHL debut tonight, or I would have heard it from my parents at least.  
  
Harry noticed I was tense and looked over at me. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, just excited to be here." I lied. "Never seen a game at Madison Square Garden, it's pretty exciting. Oh shit!" I saw him as he turned to talk to another player and I ducked lower in my seat. When I saw who that other player was I swore even harder. "Fuck, no this is not happening."  
  
"What is it? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me in public?" Harry tried to joke, but he looked worried.  
  
"No," I sat up a little more to see if my brother was still talking to him. "I didn't plan on introducing you to my family so soon, but that's my twin brother. Number 23 of the Pittsburgh Penguins, Scott Wilson."  
  
Harry's face went blank as he looked out at the ice. "Oh."  
  
"And the guy he's talking to, on the other team, that's my, um, ex-boyfriend," I said as I slowly slid further down my seat.  
  
"Fuck, I'm sorry Ell," he reached over to put his hand on my shoulder.  
  
"No, it's fine, I'm sure they won't see me, sitting next to Harry Styles." I closed my eyes and tried to become invisible.  
  
"We can go, if you want," he said quietly.  
  
"No, it's fine. I just didn't realize my ex played for the Rangers. Must have gotten traded," I slowly sat up, and pulled my hat down further and put my hair up into a ponytail. _'Maybe my own brother will be too distracted to notice me.'  
_  
"Sorry," Harry said after a moment. "Do you want something to drink?"  
  
"Like alcohol? Heck yes, but it's freaking expensive here, though," I turned to face him, but he was already sending one of the bodyguards up to get us some beer.  
  
"Don't worry, I got it," he winked. "He'll bring you as many refills as you want."  
  
"Good, I'm going to need it. And, thanks," I offered a shy smile.  
  
"For the beer? No problem, you look like you need it." He shrugged.  
  
"No, for everything." I smiled a little brighter as he looked at me with those green eyes.  
  
"I want to kiss you, but I don't want to draw any attention," he said, entrapping me in his gaze.  
  
"So you thought you'd stare at me instead?" I teased, a smirk starting on the edge of my lips.  
He nodded and started to smile.  
  
"Good, I don't like attention," I replied, finally able to break from his gaze and look back toward the ice.  
  
"If you don't like attention, you're sitting next to the wrong person," he said quietly and shot me a teasing look out of the corner of his eye.  
  
_'Yeah, I know,'_ I thought as I bit my lip and glanced back at him. There was to be no touching him in public, or any kind of interaction that could make us seem as anything other than 'friends.' It didn't bother me too much, because we weren't really a 'hand holding' type couple anyway. We were the 'having sex all night' type of couple. Though right now, I could have used some kind of physical reassurance, like holding his hand.

###    


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to include some hockey! Sorry, hockey is my true passion, and it fit into Ellie’s story pretty well. Also, Scott Wilson is not my favorite player or anything, but he was Canadian and a lesser-known player, so he fit. Her ex is not a real hockey player, I made him up. (PS, if you’re into hockey, check out my hockey fanfiction: http://www.hockeyfanfiction.com/Member/41754/)


	8. New York Part 2

 After the game I decided I had to talk to my brother. It would be rude not to, right? I went alone, thinking it would be weird if I showed up with Harry Styles, especially since my ex-boyfriend was somewhere in the arena too. We had a nice chat, I congratulated him on his NHL debut, and said I was in the city visiting a friend.

  
“Congrats, Scott,” I said. “I’m really proud of you, and really fucking jealous. Growing up, we always dreamed of playing in the NHL together.”  
  
“I guess you’ll just have to settle for watching me play,” Scott teased, and I hit his arm.  
  
“If you even make the team, it’s just the preseason, don’t let that get to your head.” I gave him an awkward hug goodbye and said I’d see him at Christmas. It’s not that we aren’t very close, that’s just how my family is; not overly involved in each other’s lives.  
  
I met up with Harry, who was already safely hidden in the car, and he was looking at something on his phone. “Look, Ellie, I found us a place to get poutine,” he excitedly showed me on his phone. “You know, since you didn’t bring any for me from Canada,” he teased.  
  
“Sorry, they seized it at customs,” I joked, and returned his smirk. “Poutine sounds awesome, I’m starving.”  
  
“Tomorrow and the next couple days I have rehearsals for a while, so you’ll be on your own for a bit. You can do all those touristy things you couldn’t do with me,” he added, looking a little sad.  
  
“Rehearsal? For your next concert?” I asked.  
  
“No, we’re the musical guest on Saturday Night Live this weekend,” he answered casually.  
  
“No fucking way, Harry!” I exclaimed. “That is so cool!”  
  
He shrugged. “We’ve done it a couple times, but, yeah, it’s still really fun. That reminds me, you’re coming to watch it, live, on Saturday night.” He grinned, not looking sad about leaving me alone in the city anymore.  
  
“No!” I hit his arm, then apologized for hitting him. “That is so awesome!”  
  
“Yes, and don’t break my arm, why are you so,” he poked my arm muscle, “Strong?”  
  
“Lifting all those books at the bookstore,” I joked. “Is this it? The poutine place?” I asked as we stopped. It was, and it was some of the best poutine I’ve had outside of Canada. Harry seemed to really like it, like, there were sex noises involved in the eating of this poutine. Then, we went back to his hotel and had real sex (poutine note included).  
  
I did not mind being on my own in the city - I wasn’t just saying it for Harry’s sake. I didn’t want to take it, but he insisted on giving me money for food/transportation/other touristy things. It saved me the hassle of going to the bank to get my money exchanged, or informing my credit card company that I would be using it internationally.  
  
“This should cover it,” he handed me a pile of cash, half of which I returned to him. “As long as you don’t use it to see that ex-boyfriend of yours who plays for the Rangers,” he added teasingly (I think?).  
  
“Ha,” I snorted, “I would rather pay _not_ to see him.” I was glad he left it at that, and did not seem jealous at all, because it had been a long and hard relationship that ended difficulty. And I did not need to burden my new, er, whatever Harry was, with that unnecessary information.  
  
My first day on my own it was raining, so I went to some museums. The second day I was alone, I took a walk through central park, visited the statue of liberty and Ellis Island, sending Harry pictures of my adventures.  
  
My third day alone was actually an evening because Harry had another concert just over the border in New Jersey. So, I went to another hockey game, and (using my own money, I would have felt guilty otherwise) bought a ticket off a scalper. This time, the Rangers were not playing the Pittsburgh Penguins, so I did not get to see my brother again. I did, however, see my idiot ex-boyfriend Glen, and because I had gotten a ticket so close to the ice, he saw me too.  
  
_‘Shit’_ I thought when we made eye contact. _‘Where is Harry when I need to him?’_  
  
However, I did not need Harry around to make my ex angry, I can do that all on my own. Apparently, me just being there ticked him off enough to get a fighting major (a 10 minute penalty), which sent him back to the locker room for the rest of the game. He was pissed, and when he somehow bumped into me in the parking garage after the game, he wasn’t afraid to show me.  
  
“What are you doing here?” He asked. He kept his distance, and I made sure he kept his back to the wall, so he was between it and me.  
  
I shrugged. “Just watching a game.”  
  
“Oh really? Where’s your fancy boyfriend this time?” He spat.  
  
My carefully crafted confidence started to crumble. “What?”  
  
“Ellie, I saw you here with Harry fucking Styles a few days ago. What are you even doing with someone like him?? Yeah, I know who that is,” he rolled his eyes, as if he knew I would make fun of him for it.  
  
“Oh, is that who I was sitting next to? I had no idea,” I shrugged and played innocent. “I was just here to see my brother.”  
  
“Okay, that part makes sense, but why are you here tonight?” Glen interrogated.  
  
“Just watching a hockey game, is that illegal?”  
  
“No! But when I said I never wanted to see you again, I meant it!”  
  
“You know what? I’m sorry I chose my physical health over you!” I shouted quietly, so we didn’t attract attention.  
  
His expression changed, and I couldn’t read it. “You think I’m still mad about that? Ellie,” he shook his head and seemed to calm down. “Never mind, this was stupid.”  
  
“I’m leaving on Sunday, so you don’t need to worry about seeing me again.” I shouted after him as he walked away. I stood in the parking garage waiting for my ride to pick me up in complete shock.  
  
_‘Then what the fuck is he mad at??’_  
  
I tried to get him out of my head and enjoy my time in New York. When I got back to the hotel, Harry was still in New Jersey. They probably wouldn’t back until late, so I flipped on the TV and raided the mini bar. After a while, I found myself naked in front of the full length mirror looking over the scars left from the surgery. _‘Three fractured ribs, broken femur, cracked ulna and radius, fractured tibia and fibula…’_ I listed them as I traced each fading scar. They weren’t as noticeable any more, which is probably why Harry never asked about them, but I knew them well enough that I could find them long after they faded. I wanted to cover them up, and my drunken mind thought Harry’s clothes would do that best (because they’re so soft and pretty!)  
  
By the time Harry returned a couple hours later, the mini bar was nearly empty and I was wearing his clothes and dancing on the bed.  
  
“I see you’ve enjoyed yourself,” he laughed at me as he came into the room.  
  
“Harry! Let’s have sex,” I crawled over to him on the bed. “Right now, before I fall asleep.”  
  
“Let me just grab a shower first,” he eyed me carefully and left for the bathroom. I stayed on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, wishing it would stop spinning.  
  
“So, what did you do tonight? Besides,” he waved his hand at the outfit I was wearing, “playing dress-up.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I went to a hockey game again,” I looked at him with sad apologetic eyes, but he smiled.  
  
“That’s fine, I know you really like hockey. Did you see your brother again?”  
  
I shook my head. “They were playing the Islanders this time.”  
  
“Oh, so did you see your ex?” He asked, his smile melting a little.  
  
I nodded. “I didn’t go to see him, I just wanted to see a game. And I paid for it myself, since you said not to-”  
  
“Ell, I was joking. I'm the one who dragged you all the way down here for the week; you can do whatever you want when I'm not around, and the least I can do is pay for it.” He interrupted me and laughed. “You are being silly tonight, what’s gotten into you? Besides all the alcohol…”  
  
“My ex, he said he saw us together, and he called you my boyfriend.” I paused. “And then he said something that I didn’t understand.”  
  
“You talked to him?” Harry sounded a little more worried.  
  
“I ran into him after the game, I don’t know how he found me, but he was mad.” I shook my head as I thought about what he said. “I still can’t figure out what he meant, but I think we didn’t break up for the reason I thought we did. What ever, it was along time ago.”  
  
It was quiet for a moment and neither Harry nor I looked at each other. Finally he got up and brought me a glass of water. “You should drink this, you don’t want to get a hangover.”  
  
“Thanks,” I took the glass from him.  
  
“I have to go, we’re recording for our new album tonight,” he patted my shoulder before grabbing his jacket and leaving.  
  
I drank the water slowly before falling asleep, still in his clothes. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me that night, but when I woke up he was next to me, snoring and hugging a pillow.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I didn’t specify when this takes place, so it’s now around early October 2015. They met at the end of August. Not as much Harry in the chapter, sorry, but we're finally learning a bit about Ellie


	9. New York Part 3

 

I woke up Saturday morning feeling sick from drinking too much the night before. Luckily Harry was still sleep, so he missed that unpleasantness. I ordered us some room service for breakfast and by the time it arrived Harry woke up.  
  
"I could get used to this," he said and joined me for breakfast.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Coming home to find you in my room," he smiled.  
  
"I could definitely get used to that. And this," I pointed out the room service, and the soft hotel robe I was wearing.  
  
“I see you’re out of my clothes,” he teased and took a bite of toast. “What was that all about?”  
  
I blushed and put my coffee down. “Sorry about that, I don’t know what got into me, but I feel like I owe you an explanation. I just wish I had one that made sense...”  
  
He took another bite and kept watching me thoughtfully. “You’re not like, having feelings for him again, are you?” He sounded like he was trying to tease me, but he looked like he was bracing himself for an emotional blow.  
  
“God no, Harry, nothing like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” I pretended to sound romantic.  
  
“Do I know that?” He asked, and clarified, “I mean, I don’t really know you that well. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff. I didn’t know you had a brother, or an ex boyfriend who played hockey.”  
  
My heart started to race. He sounded very casual, but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “What do you want to know?” I tried to ask lightly.  
  
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just feel weird. You could Google me and find out where I’m from, and who my parents are, and all kinds of stuff. I have to find out about you the old fashioned way, the way normal people do. You know, by talking.”  
  
I laughed, and he returned my smile. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I haven’t Googled you. I don’t even know how old you are, though I assume you’re 21 since I’ve seen you drinking and we’re in the States.”  
  
He nodded. “That is accurate, I am 21. Nice detective work Nancy Drew. You mentioned you went to university, so you’re like 22?”  
  
“23, I graduated last year. And I studied political science, in case you’re wondering.”  
  
He sat up and leaned forward to look at me more closely. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You work at a bookstore, so I would have thought you were an English major, or some kind of arts.”  
  
I laughed and put my coffee down to get some toast. “Heck no, I don’t have that kind of creativity.”  
  
We munched on breakfast for a few moments until he had a new question for me. “So, if working in a bookstore wasn’t your dream job, what is?” He asked.  
  
I blushed and looked away. “Nothing worth mentioning.”  
  
“Come on, what did little Elloise want to be when she grew up?” He gave an irresistibly cute smile, dimples and all, and I could not resist.  
  
“When we were younger, my brother Scott and I always wanted to play in the NHL together.” I blushed, not sure why I was embarrassed, but Harry smiled. “Obviously, women can’t play in the NHL, so I opted to pursue a different league, but I didn’t even make it that far.”  
  
“Sorry, Ell, that sucks. If they didn’t want you, that’s their loss.” He put his hand reassuringly on my shoulder.  
  
“No, it’s not that they didn’t want me, I just....I played hockey in college (which is how I met Glen), and I was pretty good, I guess, I was okay enough to hopefully have some kind of career afterwards. I even represented Canada internationally a few times - not the Olympics - but I was decent enough. So, uh, I guess you could Google me too, and read my hockey stats.” I joked and tried to smile. “But senior year, I got these,” I started to pull up my shirt.  
  
“Why are you taking your shirt off?” He asked, but trailed off when he saw the scars on my ribs. “Did your ex do that to you?” He asked, his teeth clenched, his eyes shining bright green.  
  
The corners of my mouth lifted into a slight smile. “Are you being protective of me?”  
  
“Did he hurt you?” Harry asked again. “And why are you smiling?” His sudden tenseness started to melt.  
  
“No, he didn’t hurt me.” I shook my head. I hated talking about myself, especially when it came to hockey. “I was pretty badly injured in a game. For school spirit week my senior year of college the girls hockey team played a scrimmage game against the boys team, which my brother and Glen played on. It was supposed to be fun, but, I’m about 5’7”, at the time around 135 lbs, and one of their defencemen was nearly a foot taller and probably had a hundred pounds on me. It was an accident, but he’s huge, and had a lot of momentum; he accidentally sent me flying into the goalposts, and then crashed into me.” I took off the rest of my shirt and my jeans to show him the scars and explained each injury. “Basically, my hockey career = over.”  
  
His eyes looked so sad and sympathetic it was almost making me sad again. “Oh, fuck Ell, that’s really awful. That must have really fucking hurt. How do you even…” He trailed off and I watched his eyes dart over the scars again.  
  
“What?” I asked.  
  
“How do you deal with it? I would be absolutely devastated and depressed.” He looked so concerned and sad I couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
“Yeah, it was hard at first, but I still play hockey for fun. And honestly, as a woman, playing professional hockey is not a realistic career.” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I had a lot of time to think about it when I was in the hospital, and going through physical therapy. That was also when Glen dumped me, so, it was a good time to start over clean slate, no hockey, no boyfriend.”  
  
“What a douche,” Harry replied, and knitted his brows in disapproval. “Who breaks up with their girlfriend when she’s in the hospital?”  
  
“Yeah, well, it was kind of mutual, actually,” I quietly corrected. “He kinda wanted me to go with him while he played in the NHL. But, I needed to spend months in physical therapy after getting surgery, so packing up and moving to another city, in another country, was not really an option for me at the moment. So, I chose to stay, and he left, and that was the end of it. Or at least that’s what I thought, until I saw him yesterday.”  
  
Harry was quiet for a moment as he took that all in. “So, you didn’t want to try a long distance relationship?” I could tell what he was getting at, and I needed to reassure him that the distance was not an issue.  
  
“No, it was not the distance that broke us up; we had other problems too. We’d been together since freshman year when we had English together and didn’t even realize we both played hockey until I saw him at practice one day,” I smiled and laughed quietly, but Harry did not seem to enjoy that sentiment. “But by senior year everything was different. He had been one of the school’s star players and he considered leaving college early to play professionally, but he always said he stayed for me. To be honest, I think he wasn’t good enough, and that’s why he stayed,” I added. “Had things been different between us at that point, I would have tried to make it work.”  
  
He nodded, “That’s reassuring to know.”  
  
I smiled and felt a little relieved. “So, enough about my ex boyfriend. Tell me all about your ex’s,” I joked.  
  
“Who do you want to hear about, Taylor Swift?” He laughed, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking.  
  
“Wait, are you for some reason jokingly calling me Taylor Swift? Or do you mean she’s your ex?” I was trying to hide my excitement. I used to love her when I was in high school!  
  
He laughed, then blushed. “No, we dated. You really do live under a rock, don’t you?”  
  
I ignored his comment. “You dated Taylor Swift? Wow, I you really are wayyy out of my league. Fuck.”  
  
“You’re just realizing this now?” He teased, and earned a light punch in the arm from me.  
  
“Ouch, now I know why you’re so strong, from all the hockey.” He rubbed his arm.  
  
“Sorry,” I shrugged.  
  
He shook his head and smiled. “That is such a Canadian thing to say.” He leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek as he stood up. “Apologizing for being too strong from playing hockey.”’  
  
“Where’re you going?” I asked as he started getting dressed.  
  
“30 Rock, for SNL,” he grinned. “You can get dinner with us tonight, if you want.”  
  
“Sure, I’d like that,” I gave him a quick kiss goodbye before there was a knock at the door, our reminder that Harry was here working and not on vacation, like I was.  
  
“See you tonight!”  
  
I had another whole day to myself in New York City and it was my last day, so I hit all the places I hadn’t visited yet. I waited in line at the Empire State Building for a long time, but damn it was worth it. After visiting a few other places, I had some time left so I went back to central park to watch the little sailboats for a while.  
  
_*Where are you?_ Harry texted.  
  
I told him where I was, and he said he’d be right there. I looked around and saw quite a few other people out, and wondered how he was just going to walk into central park unnoticed. However, 20 minutes later, Harry, along with several bodyguards, and Louis, Liam, and Niall did, in fact, walk into central park. I almost didn’t recognize them, they were wearing wigs, and maybe some makeup?  
  
“What is this?” I asked and touched Harry’s shirt. I’d never seen him wear anything this…normal before.  
  
“We’re in a skit tonight, and these are our costumes,” Louis explained and twirled to show off his whole outfit.  
  
“They let you wear this out in public?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah, as long as we don’t get anything on them.” Liam answered.  
  
“I thought we were getting dinner,” Niall interrupted. “I’m hungry.”  
  
“Me too. I was told there would be dinner,” I looked at Harry.  
  
“Yes, there is dinner.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and we all walked over to the Loeb Boathouse, where they had reservations under a fake name. They all kept looking around, waiting to get noticed, but the place was busy and no one seemed to notice One Direction sitting right in front of them.  
  
“This is really nice,” I said to Harry, holding his hand in public for the first time. “If only you weren’t wearing those ugly glasses.”  
  
“But without them, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he leaned closer and drew me into a long, passionate kiss I was more than willing to reciprocate. I finally pulled away, feeling embarrassed to make out in front of the guys and their bodyguards (who were dressed normally to blend in).  
  
“What, you’re embarrassed to be seen kissing me like this?” Harry teased.  
  
“No, I’m just not into PDA.”  
  
“Then we’re more perfect for each other than I thought,” he replied.  
  
I thought back to that first time we went out in public together and the list of things we weren’t supposed to do. “Yeah, I guess so,” I smiled.  
  
“It’s time for you guys to get back to set,” one of the bodyguards said and drew Harry and I back to reality. I held hands with him all the way back to 30 Rock and even got to hang out backstage while they got their makeup and costumes touched up.  
  
When it was finally time for me to take my place in the audience, Harry kissed me goodbye. “You’re going to love tonight’s show,” he said.  
  
“I’m sure I will, I’m really excited!” I said. I had never been to a live event like this, other than a concert, but this was totally different. When the guys came out with their wigs and ‘normal’ clothes the crowed went crazy. They were actually really funny, I could not stop laughing at Harry. They were back in their regular clothes by the time they had to perform. They sang ‘Night Changes’ the first time, and another song I didn’t recognize the second time they performed. Harry must have known where I was sitting because I swear he was looking right at me. It was amazing, and I knew, in that moment, I would do anything to make this work between us.  
  
We woke up late Sunday morning after staying out way too late Saturday night. My head hurt, but I had a lot of fun at the after parties.  
  
Harry and I ate breakfast in our room for the last time before we both left. I was heading back to Ottawa, and he was going onto the next part of the tour. I couldn’t get that thought I had the night before out of my head, and I needed to clear things up before we parted ways again. After we’d both finished eating I snuggled up close to him.  
  
“Harry, I hate to do this, but before I go I just have to know: what are we?” I looked up at him and his eyes looked uncertain, almost scared.  
  
“Damn Ellie, for a second I thought you were breaking up with me,” he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer. “I don’t know what we are. Do you mean, like, are we dating?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I didn’t come all the way to New York just to have sex with you and be a tourist. I could do that with anyone,” I paused. “Well, not anyone, but what I mean is, you’re the only person I would do that for right now. So, I guess, that makes you my boyfriend?”  
  
He looked down at me again, and I could tell he was thinking. I felt embarrassed, because maybe that’s not how he saw it. I turned my head to hide my face in his chest, to wait for him to finally say something.  
  
“Yeah, something like that.” He rested his chin on my head and I held him tighter. That was not exactly the answer I was looking for, but if that’s how he felt I wasn’t going to argue. “I don’t know. I’m trying really hard not to fall in love with you because the way things are now, there isn’t much a of a future for ‘us,’ whatever that is.”  
  
I pulled away from him to look him in the eyes. “Harry, now it sounds like you’re breaking up with me.”  
  
“I’m not, but…” he bit his lip and his sad green eyes made me want to rush back into his arms.  
  
“But what? We’re either dating, or we’re not.” I took a step back out of his embrace. This was not ending the way I thought it would, but perhaps it was inevitable  
.  
“I don’t know if we can,” he finally said. “I still have a month left on this tour, and then…. Then I don’t know what. I don’t know how we could be together.”  
  
I could tell he didn’t want to say any of this to me, and it hurt like hell to hear it, but this didn’t have to be the end. We could find a way. “Harry, I would quit my job in a heartbeat; I am not tied to Ottawa in any way, or even Canada. I would give it all up if you wanted me to. Just say the word, Harry, and I’m yours.”  


 


	10. Until Ottawa

 The bookstore became unbearably dull and boring after I returned from New York. Now more than ever I felt like I was going nowhere, just wasting my time waiting for something to happen. I hadn’t talked about hockey or the accident with anyone for a while, so to bring all that up again made me realize just how much I missed it. Harry was my one escape, and we spent hours texting, or talking late at night. We always seemed to avoid the topic of ‘us’ and relationships, but it was still nice just to talk.

  
I visited my parents for a few days while Scott was home between the pre-season and the start of the regular NHL season. They did nothing but talk about his NHL debut, and say how proud of him they were. I know I should have been happy for him, and I was, but it just made me angry. It was so irritating to see him living his dream, our dream of playing pro hockey, while my life stagnated. To think I peaked in college, and would never get any higher in my career...it was a depressing thought I had been avoiding, and now I could think of nothing else.  
  
“Ellie?” I looked up as I heard my name. My parents and Scott were staring at me, waiting for a response.  
  
“Sorry, what?”  
  
“Scott says you were in New York at the time, visiting a friend?” My mom repeated.  
  
“Oh, yeah, it was a coincidence. I’m really lucky I got to be there,” I smiled tiredly at Scott.  
  
“I didn’t even realize you were out of the country; who were you visiting? Anyone I know?” My mom asked.  
  
“Sorry, it was a last minute trip. Just a friend from school, I don’t think you’ve met her,” I could tell I was blushing with embarrassment, and excused myself from the table. “I’m going to get some air; working the night shift is starting to get to me.”  
  
“Sorry, hun, I forgot you’re usually asleep this time of day,” my mom apologized as I left the kitchen. I sat down on the front steps and played with a strand of grass as I tried to clear my head. I was never very good at lying to my parents, and it made it worse that they were so kind and supportive. As much as I’d love to tell them I was visiting my new boyfriend Harry Styles, I’m not entirely sure he was my boyfriend.  
  
I was startled by the screen door opening and whipped my head around to see who it was.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Scott said as he handed me a cup of coffee. “Mom made coffee because you looked tired.”  
  
“Oh, thanks,” I took the mug and held it with both hands, absorbing its warmth. I didn’t realize I was cold until I was holding the warm mug, goosebumps forming on my arms.  
  
“So, um, you weren’t really visiting a friend, were you?” He asked as he sat down next to me.  
  
“Was it that obvious?” I turned to look at him, and he grimaced.  
  
“I think they bought it, but it was not your best performance.” He took a sip of his coffee and it was quiet for a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing in New York?”  
  
_‘I do mind you asking’_ I thought, but I know he’s just trying to look out for me. “Nothing, it’s complicated.”  
  
“Okay, that usually means there’s a guy involved. It’s funny,” he half smiled. “I thought maybe you were trying out for the New York Riveters.”  
  
I laughed and almost spit out my coffee. “Scott, I would love to play in the National Women’s Hockey League, but you know I can’t play anymore.”  
  
“I don’t know, they can do a lot with physical therapy these days. You’re still going to that, right?” He asked, and glanced at me.  
  
“No, I gave up months ago. Once I could walk and move normally, I stopped going.”  
  
“Ell, you’re never going to fully recover if you don’t go to PT.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m your big brother, I have to say stuff like that.”  
  
“I know, I just lost motivation, I guess.” I stared into my coffee. “And you’re only older by like 15 minutes,” I reminded him. He loved to play the ‘older brother’ card a lot, even though we’re practically the same age.  
  
“Getting the chance to play professional hockey isn’t motivation enough? It’s only the NWHL’s first season, but I thought for sure that’s something you would have wanted to be involved in.”  
  
“It would have been, yeah. When they were forming teams earlier this year I got a call, but I was not 100% at the time, physically speaking, and I don’t think I ever will be, so I turned it down.”  
  
“What?!? I had no idea! How could you turn down the chance to play professional hockey?” Scott was shocked.  
  
“I don’t think I can play anymore,” I repeated. “Not at that level. I play with a local women's team on the weekends, it’s basically a beer league, but that’s nothing compared to the NWHL.”  
  
“I don’t believe you; I think you’ve still got it. We’re going to the ice arena,” he stood up and held out a hand to help me up. I reluctantly took it and let him pull me to my feet.  
  
“Scott, I don’t have my skates or any other gear…” I whined, but I knew we were going through with this regardless.  
  
“I’m sure mom and dad have a few of our old sticks hanging around in the garage, and we can rent skates at the arena.”  
  
“Fine, just let me change my clothes first,” I gave in. I was reluctant, but it would be nice to get on the ice with Scott again. It had been months since we hit a puck around together.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” he said as we drove to the arena.  
  
“Ha! I was just going to say the opposite thing to you,” I teased. “Now that you’re pro, I won’t go easy on you anymore.”  
  
“Right,” he said sarcastically.  
  
The arena was exactly as I remembered it, and we recalled the countless hours we had spent here growing up. We found some spare pucks and set up the nets, taking a few shots to warm up.  
  
“I’m glad mom kept our old helmets from high school,” I said as I adjusted the straps. “My head is the one thing I didn’t mess up in that accident, and I’d like to keep it that way.”  
  
“Don’t worry, we’ll play no contact. Ready?” Scott brought the puck out to center ice. I nodded I was ready and joined him. We started lightly, having fun, until we each got more competitive and things got pretty serious.  
  
After an hour, Scott stopped me, out of breath. “Damn, you still got it. I’ve played NHL hockey easier than that.”  
  
“Shut up, you’re just saying that. Besides, you’ve only played a couple pre-season games, I don’t think that counts,” I teased.  
  
He shrugged. “Either way, I need to catch my breath.” He hopped the boards and sat on the bench, while I skated back to center ice.  
  
“Whatever, I’m going to practice my slapshot,” I called back to him and collected all the pucks. I forgot how nice it felt to really hit the puck hard - it’s a great way to get out anger. After a few minutes I noticed Scott had his phone out.  
  
“Are you taking my picture?” I asked and skated over to the bench.  
  
“No, a video. I want you to see how you look when you play. You look...happy? Or, uh, satisfied?” He shook his head. “That’s not the right word, but it looks natural. And you have excellent form on your shot.”  
  
“Thanks,” I said quietly and took his phone to watch. It was weird. I felt like I was watching someone else, or remembering a dream. I replayed it a few times, then sent the video to myself. I shrugged and handed his phone back to him. “Whatever, it’s easy to hit an empty net.”  
  
Scott laughed. “You are always so hard on yourself. Come on, let’s grab a drink.”  
  
A couple drinks later, we drove home from the bar and joked about old hockey memories. It was late, almost midnight, by the time we got in. Mom and dad were asleep so we tried to sneak in quietly.  
  
“Just like high school,” I whispered and we tried (but failed) to quietly get up the stairs without them creaking. Our childhood bedrooms were exactly the same. Hockey trophies mounted on the walls, I had the same bed sheets and everything. “Goodnight, thanks for making me play some hockey tonight.”  
  
“Hopefully you’ve realized that next time the NWHL calls, you shouldn’t turn them down,” he replied before slipping into his room.  
  
I stayed up late thinking about that and rewatched that video several times. _‘He’s right’_ I thought as I watched it again. ‘ _I shouldn’t have given up so easily’_  
I don’t know why, but I sent the video to Harry, with the text “I still got it!”  
  
He didn’t reply, since it was very early where he was, and I eventually forgot about it and fell asleep.  
  
I was woken up the next morning to my phone buzzing. It was Harry, and I had several missed calls from him as well. “Sorry, I was asleep,” I said as I answered my phone.  
  
“You’re playing hockey again?” Harry asked excitedly.  
  
“With my brother, we were just having fun,” I replied groggily and rubbed my eyes.  
  
“That was fierce, you looked pretty hot,” he added quietly, and I laughed. “So...when you said you ‘still got it’ were you thinking of pursuing your dream of playing hockey again?” I couldn’t tell if he sounded disappointed or not. It was too early and his tone was always so unreadable, especially on the phone.  
  
“Not any time soon,” I answered. “Why?”  
  
“I’ve been thinking about what you said in New York, and I’d like to talk to you.” He said hesitantly. “In person.”  
  
“In person? Um, okay… where are you?”  
  
“I’m at home. In England. We’re just finishing up our tour here.” He paused. “We’re headed to LA next week to do the Late Late Show, I could stop by Ottawa? It’s on the way.”  
  
“Harry, whatever you have to say, you can say it on the phone. I don’t want to make you come all the way here just to break up with me in person,” I sighed and rested my head against the bedpost.  
  
“I wasn’t going to break up with you…” he said quietly, and I swear I could hear him smiling.  
  
“Oh!” I sat up straight in bed, my head suddenly clear. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess it’s not a surprise anymore. But I also didn’t want to ask you to leave Ottawa if you were getting back into hockey there.”  
  
“Nope, not an issue. How about I just come with you to LA?” I suggested. “And, then wherever you’re going after that?”  
  
He thought for a moment. “What about your job? I wouldn’t want you to leave your job just for me.”  
  
“I actually gave my two weeks notice,” I blushed. I’m not sure why, but I was embarrassed, like maybe he would think I seemed desperate.  
  
“Oh, when?” He perked up.  
  
“Two weeks ago.”  
  
“So you’re done with work?” He sounded pretty excited now, and I was relieved we were on the same page.  
  
“Yes,” I answered. “And I can be packed and ready to move out of my apartment at a moment’s notice. My roommate has a friend who can move in and buyout my lease. My elderly neighbor has always loved my cat, so I gave him to her before I came up to visit my parents. I’m ready. I’m ready for something to happen, some kind of change When I said I would give it all up, I meant it. After all, there's not really that much to give up.”  
  
It was quiet for a moment as I waited for him to respond. “Harry?”  
  
“I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who asked you to give up your job, or your cat for me, but you’ve already done that all on your own. I didn’t even know you had a cat,” he laughed.  
  
“His name is Wayne. Like Wayne Gretzky.”  
  
“Of course, that’s fitting,” he laughed.  
  
“I thought of you yesterday when I was drinking coffee,” I said after a moment.  
  
“Oh really?”  
  
“Yeah. I didn’t realize I was cold until I was holding a cup of hot coffee, and it started to warm me up. I guess I thought of you because I didn’t realize I was bored, lonely, or whatever...until you came along and opened my eyes, and warmed me up.” I swallowed nervously. This was not coming out how I thought it would.  
  
“I’m glad I could warm you up, and, uh, light your candle.” I could picture him smirking.  
  
“Oh, you can light my candle,” I teased seductively. “Damn I forgot I was at my parents, I shouldn’t have said that so loudly.”  
  
He laughed and I felt my cheeks turning pink. “I’ve missed that, Ell, thank you.”  
  
“I’ve missed you to,” I replied sarcastically. “I have to go for breakfast, but I’ll see you in Ottawa.”  
  
“Right. Until Ottawa.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there’s not much Harry in this chapter, but from here out it will be all Ellie and Harry! I feel like it seems that things are going kind of fast with them, but it’s been nearly two months since they met, and they do talk a lot, I just haven’t shown that really. Any feedback/comments are always welcome : )


	11. Harry Styles - Male Escort

 “I got a new tattoo recently, just for you,” Harry smiled down at me and wrapped his arm around my lower back, drawing me close to him.

  
“Really? For me?” I blushed. “What is it?”  
  
He smirked and started to unbutton his shirt. “You’ll have to find it.”  
  
I groaned and closed my eyes. “Oh, I’d love to search every inch of your body, but we don’t have time.”  
  
He tilted his head to the side and bit his lip. “What do you mean? We don’t leave for LA until tomorrow, we have all night.”  
  
I shook my head, and considered caving in and stripping the rest of his clothes off to find that tattoo, and then something else… “No I have a - I guess it’s a surprise - but you seemed to like watching me hit the puck around in that video I sent you, so, I thought you might want to watch me play hockey, in person.”  
  
He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip. “I’m not sure I could control myself.”  
  
I giggled and pulled away from him. “Well, I think you’ll change your mind once you see me in my hockey gear.” I linked my arm in his and pulled him toward the door. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”  
  
I tried not to think about him sitting up in the stands with his bodyguard, but I couldn’t get him out of my head. I looked up at him, wearing a hat to hide his identity, and I saw him flash a smile - those dimples showing clearly all the way across the ice. I knew he probably couldn’t see my face with my helmet on, but I smiled back. The rest of the game went okay once I stopped thinking about those green eyes watching me. I even scored a goal near the end!  
  
Harry came out with the team to get a few drinks after the game to celebrate our win. Most of the girls on the team were too old to care who he was, so we didn’t need to worry about him getting recognized, or anyone seeing us together. After a couple drinks I remembered that tattoo, waiting somewhere on his body for me to find it.  
  
I had started taking his shirt off as we drove home to look for it, but it was too dark, so we ended up making out instead. I felt weird that his bodyguard was there, but he was pretty good at making himself invisible, and I knew he was only there for Harry’s safety. When we got back to my apartment, he said he’d pick us up at 11 tomorrow to take us to the airport. Harry and I made our way up to my apartment tangled in each other’s arms.  
  
I as I fumbled blindly for the light switch in our kitchen the light flicked on and my roommate screamed.  
  
_‘Shit, I thought she was out tonight’_ I grumbled to myself and pulled away from Harry.  
  
“Is that…” she gaped open mouthed at him.  
  
“Male escort.” For some reason, that was the first thing to come to mind. “I’ve hired him for the night, do you know him?” I looked between her and Harry (who was biting his lips to keep from laughing).  
  
“Ellie, that’s Harry Styles!” She nearly shrieked and took a step back  
.  
“I can’t tell if she’s afraid of me, or what,” Harry whispered to me.  
  
I shrugged and looked back at my roommate. “I don’t remember his name, sorry, but we’ve got business in, uh there.” I pointed toward my bedroom door and hoped she would move. She remained stationary as we moved around the table and closer to the door. She flinched and jumped backward when we got closer, then finally ran back into her room.  
  
We both fell on my bed giggling once we’d made it to my room and closed the door. “So, your roommate’s a fan?”  
  
“I guess so, I didn’t realize, sorry,” I laughed and rolled over to straddle him. “But enough about her...I believe there is a tattoo somewhere on this body I need to find.”  
  
I started taking off his clothes slowly until he stopped me. “It can wait-” he interrupted and helped me take our clothes off. “This, can’t.”  
  
“Wow, you weren’t joking about getting turned on watching me play hockey…” I teased.  
  
“Babe, seeing you do what you do best makes me so horny,” he said in a husky tone.  
  
And with that, I lost it. I forgot all about my hyperventilating roommate in the next room over and gave up trying to be quiet, or even civilized. To say I needed this was an understatement, and clearly Harry had missed this too.  
  
We both must have fallen asleep afterwards, since it was very physically exhausting, but I woke up around 2 am and watched Harry’s chest rise and fall as he slept. I traced my finger along a few of his tattoos - those matching swallows on his collar bones are two of my faves - before I remembered his mystery tattoo. I didn’t want to wake him, but I was so curious to see what it was. I carefully pulled the blanket off him and briefly admired his naked body before searching for that new tattoo.  
  
_‘What could it be?’_ I thought as I looked at each tattoo individually, trying to remember what was there before. _‘I really hope he didn’t get my name tattooed…’_  
  
I couldn’t find anything new on his front, so I gently picked up his arms and tried to look on the back of them. _‘Perhaps it’s on his ass’_ I thought with a smirk and stifled a giggle.  
  
“What are you laughing at?” Harry said sleepily as he woke up.  
  
“Um, nothing,” I laid down next to him and pretended to go to sleep.  
  
“Were you looking for that tattoo? I thought I felt something,” he smiled tiredly.  
  
“I was, but...I think, maybe, you’re laying on it,” I grinned shyly and giggled.  
  
“You just want to look at my bum,” he said, but he rolled over. My eyes went straight to his butt: no tattoo. I was a tiny bit disappointed, but also very glad my boyfriend did not have an ass tattoo. I looked all over his back, but didn’t see anything.  
  
“What am looking for?” I asked as I started looking through his hair.  
  
“It’s not in my hair,” he laughed. “And, you’ll know it when you see it.”  
  
“Please tell me it’s not my name,” I raised my eyebrow and gave him a look, but he just laughed.  
  
“I’m not telling you what it is.”  
  
“Oh God it’s my name isn’t it…” I groaned as I continued searching. It wasn’t on the back, and it wasn’t on the front, so maybe it was...on the side?  
  
“That tickles…” Harry giggled as I explored his hips.  
  
I turned him over on his side, and there it was. A couple inches below his left hip bone was a tattoo of two crossed hockey sticks, with a heart between them. I traced my index finger over it lightly and looked up at Harry. “This is really fucking cute, thanks.” I bit my lip and actually felt a little emotional.  
  
“You’re giving up your job, your apartment, your cat, your life here in Canada to come with me...I had to get you something in return to show you how much you mean to me,” he leaned his head down to kiss my forehead.  
  
“I’m not giving up that much here, trust me.” I smiled up at him. “Why’d you get it on your hip, though? Your right arm is nearly empty compared to the left.”  
  
“I had to get it somewhere no one would see, so they wouldn’t ask about it. I guess I could just say I really love hockey,” he joked.  
  
“Would someone really ask you about a tattoo?”  
  
He nodded. “Or if the paps got a picture of it, the media might speculate all kinds of crazy stuff.”  
I could tell he was very experience with this, so I nodded and left it at that. “Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone thinking you were a hockey fan,” I joked.  
  
“Eww, hockey. Though honestly, I think I just like watching you play hockey. I don’t really understand the game yet.”  
  
“Then I’ll have to teach you,” I kissed him goodnight and we both slipped back to sleep.  
  
Tomorrow, I would be on a plane to visit LA for the first time, and I had a feeling it would be the first of many trips to LA with Harry.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that’s kind of a lame tattoo for Harry, but I got the idea of searching his body for a mystery tattoo and I couldn’t come up with something better. This chapter would have been more...graphic? But I honestly can’t write sex scenes, or anything sexual haha sorry! (Just fill in the blanks)


	12. Harry Gets Another Tattoo

I watched from the audience of the _Late Late Show_ as Harry got a small tattoo on his arm after losing tattoo roulette and I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t ignore. _‘If he’s willing to get a tattoo on television because he lost some game on a talk show...perhaps those crossed hockey sticks he got for me wasn’t as big of a deal as I thought it was’_. I hoped it wasn’t real, that maybe they were just pretending to give him a tattoo, and it would wash off after the show.

  
I slipped backstage to the dressing rooms after they finished playing and waited for Harry. He must have stayed behind to talk to James for a bit, because he was not with Louis, Liam, and Niall when they returned. They said hi to me, and I didn’t want to bother them, so I just complimented them on their performance.  
  
“Thanks,” Louis answered and sat down next to me, while the other two were busy talking to someone. “You look a little down; maybe feeling left out? I know we’ve been pretty busy this week, filming stuff for the show. This is usually why I leave my girl at home when we’re on tour.” He scrunched his mouth into an apologetic half smile and I nodded.  
  
“Yeah, a little. But trust me, this is more exciting than what I would have been doing,” I replied.  
  
“The bookstore, right?” He guessed, and I nodded. “My girl liked that bear I bought there, by the way.”  
  
“It was leftover from Valentine’s Day,” I laughed, and turned to face him, my smile disappearing. “Was that real? The tattoo?”  
  
He nodded. “Yeah, Harry actually volunteered to get it when James brought up the idea to us.”  
  
“Did he?” It’s not that I didn’t believe him, I just didn’t exactly want to.  
  
“Yeah, though I wouldn’t have minded getting it done; I have enough dumb tattoos, what’s one more, right?” He laughed, but saw I wasn’t smiling anymore.  
  
“So getting a tattoo is that trivial to him,” I said quietly, and before Louis had a chance to answer, Harry entered.  
  
“Just keep that bandage on for a couple days so it doesn’t get infected,” someone said to him as he entered the room.  
  
“I know, I know, this isn’t my first tat,” he said back to them before turning his attention to me. “Ellie! That was mad, wasn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah, it was,” I replied, in less of a joking tone than he had used.  
  
“James invited us over for dinner, shall we?” He asked me. It’s funny how he exuded charm and buoyancy after a performance, like it was some kind of high, but it was contagious and intoxicating. It erased any negativity and made me feel unnaturally happy and calm.  
  
“Yeah,” I nodded, “that would be great!”  
  
At dinner they talked about the show, including the dodge-ball, carpool karaoke, and tattoo roulette.  
  
“It really was kind of Harry to take one for the team,” James stated, and his wife agreed.  
  
“I’m not sure you’d look good with ‘One Direction’ tattooed on your stomach,” she laughed.  
Harry shrugged. “I have enough tattoos, what’s one more?”  
  
“Yeah, just one more meaningless, permanent mark on your body,” I remarked as I refilled my wine glass.  
  
“You can get it removed if you want, I wouldn’t be offended,” James said to Harry.  
  
“No, I like it. I like you and your show, and it’s a cute little tattoo.” Harry smiled. As much as I normally liked that smile, it irked me beyond reason to see it right now.  
  
“Ellie, Harry tells us you play hockey?” James’ wife asked, sensing I was a bit tense. Luckily changing the subject got my mind of Harry’s apparently flippant attitude toward tattoos.  
By the end of the night I was feeling a little more relaxed, whether it was all the wine or they way Harry kept slowly inching himself closer to me, as if we needed to occupy the same space, until we were practically on top of each other.  
  
  
  
The next morning we untangled ourselves from each other long enough to eat breakfast. After a cup of coffee, my mind started working again and I remembered what had bothered me most about that tattoo Harry got last night.  
  
“If you don’t mind me asking, what made you change your mind?” I bit my lip nervously as I watched his reaction.  
  
“What do you mean?” He asked. “Changed my mind about what?”  
  
I swallowed. I hated bringing up stuff like this. “Us. The way we left things in New York, I thought maybe that was it. You said you didn’t know how we could be together.”  
  
He was quiet for a moment, but had a sad and thoughtful look in his eyes. “I regret that I had to say that, because I didn't want it to sounds like we were breaking up, you mean a lot to me. But, my future is a little up in the air right now, and I didn’t want to drag you into something I wasn’t sure about myself.”  
  
“So, you’ve figured out your future?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head and smiled. “No; I have no idea what I’ll be doing after our tour ends. Not exactly, at least. But, I had a few days off when we were touring Great Britain this month so I went home and saw my family. I talked with my mom, and told her all about you; I told her how you played hockey, and you worked in a bookstore and gave me ‘ _Anne of Green Gables’_. I told her how much I missed you, and didn’t know if I could see you again.” He was quiet, then he smiled and laughed to himself. “You know what she said? It’s cliche, but she said, ‘If you love her, you’ll make it work’.”  
  
He smiled at me so calmly, those green eyes filling me with some crazy cocktail of emotions, but I only heard one thing and it made my ears ring. “So you’re making it work?”  
  
He nodded and kept smiling.  
  
“And that means,” I swallowed again, even though my mouth felt dry. “You love me?” It was a statement more than a question, but I watched him closely.  
  
He smiled even more warmly and put his hand on mine. “Yeah, I do, Ellie, I love you.” He laughed and those dimples came out, stopping my fluttering heart. “I just didn’t know how to say it, or if I should say it yet, but, you got me. I love you.”  
  
I tried to catch my breath and form the words, but I couldn’t. I leaned into him and buried my face in his chest. “I love you too, Harry,” I finally choked, and wrapped my arms tightly around him. “Maybe that’s why I was so upset about that tattoo, because I was worried you didn’t love me back?”  
  
He looked confused. “The tattoo I got for you?”  
  
I shook my head and ran my hand over the bandage on his arm. “No, the one you got last night. It made me think that the tattoo you got for my was meaningless, or that it didn’t mean what I thought it meant.”  
  
He hung his head as what I was saying hit him, but raised it to kiss me on the cheek. “I’ve gotten tattoos for various reasons, some I can’t remember, some because I’d had a bit too much to drink, but others because I really cared about someone and I wanted to remember them. And this one here,” he pulled down his shorts so we could see the whole tattoo on his hip. “This one means more than all the rest of them combined.”  
  
I smiled back at him and ran my finger along the inked hockey sticks on his hip. “So it’s kind of like a diary.”  
  
“Yeah, kind of. Except everyone can see it, and it hurts much more than writing in a diary,” he smiled.  
  
“Tell me about some of your other tattoos. What are their stories?” I asked, and Harry took off his shirt and began narrating what each mark meant. He was right, some were really dumb, but others had a very sweet story behind them. By the end I felt stupid for ever worrying about it.  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t seen that episode of Late Late, here’s the clip with tattoo roulette: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5EGWLWqThI  
> Niall is so adorably nervous!


	13. The Picture

 “Harry Styles seen with mystery girl visiting James Corden for dinner”

  
I read and reread the headline Harry’s team had brought to our attention. The article itself made me cringe at the the absolutely untrue speculation behind what I was doing with Harry. They even suggested I was the reason the band was taking a break, that I’d Yoko Onoed One Direction. I was too shocked to get angry, and Harry seemed to be deep in thought about something, so I just stared at the picture some sneaky pap had gotten of us at James’ house together.  
  
“I’m sorry Harry, I shouldn’t have come with you,” I started to apologize, but he cut me off.  
  
“It’s not your fault, Ellie.” He said without much enthusiasm. “They shouldn’t have been able to get a picture of us at James’ house like that. Must have been his neighbor or something.”  
  
“Why would they do that?” I asked in disbelief.  
  
“The paps will do anything for a picture of me a girl. Usually they don’t get out, this one must have slipped past someone.” He stood up and started to leave the room. “I have to make a few phone calls.”  
  
I sat in shock as I tried to mentally process all of this. I tried to imagine how Harry deals with this kind of thing all the time. ‘We’ll just stay inside and never go out again’ I thought. That’s fine; Harry and I can have just as much fun at home as we could if we’d gone out, probably more fun. I snickered at that thought, but was interrupted by Harry.  
  
“Our flight leaves soon, are you ready to go?” He asked, and I nodded yes. I had packed my entire life into two suitcases, which looked immensely out of style compared to Harry’s. We flew to London without discussing the picture any more, though Harry seemed a little more quiet, and not nearly as ‘hands on’ as I was used to.  
  
I ended up sleeping most of the way, and when we arrived I was super excited to see London, and Harry’s house. Considering I would be living here now, I tried to picture what it would be like. I assumed it would be a nice house, since everything Harry owned was pretty nice, but I could not picture his furniture, or what kind of color schemes he might have used in this kitchen or bathrooms. He probably had an interior decorator, but there would most likely be a bit of Harry’s flair in every room.  
  
“Welcome home,” Harry said tiredly to me when we finally arrived at his house. “Though, don’t get too comfortable here.”  
  
I stopped mid-stride and looked up at him in his entryway. “Why not?” We had not really discussed my living arrangements, though I had assumed I would be living with him since I couldn’t afford a place of my own.  
  
“We’re going to France in a couple of days, then a couple other places,” he casually mentioned, as if this were normal. Well, it probably is normal for him.  
  
“France!?!” I was ecstatic and dropped my bags at the foot of the staircase and looked up at Harry, who stopped halfway up the stairs to glance back at me.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve got a, uh, thing,” I answered and continued up the stairs. I followed him quickly and tried to take in his house, the decor, the layout (in case I got lost, it was quite big) and caught up to him at the top of the stairs. “This is your room, if you want.”  
  
_‘My room, right...we aren’t quite at that stage yet, I guess’_ I thought and dragged my suitcases toward the guest room. It was huuuuge! There was a big, comfy looking bed in the middle, a walk in closet, a beautiful dresser and mirror. “Harry, this is amazing!” I hugged him and turned on the light to see the whole room. “And I have my own bathroom!”  
  
“Yeah, I like my guests to have all the modern amenities,” he replied dryly and a hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips.  
  
“It’s like staying in a fancy hotel,” I beamed and fell back onto the bed to try it out. “This bed is so comfortable.”  
  
“I’m glad you like it. I’m going to take a nap, I’m pretty tired from the flight. We’ll get dinner later, or something,” he mumbled and left me alone in the room. I quickly ran to the door to see which room was his so I could visit him later tonight, but he was gone. I started putting away my clothes, then remembered we would be leaving in a few days, so I put them back in my suitcase.  
  
_‘I should really buy some nicer clothes’_ I thought as I looked through my clothes. Being an athlete had certainly taken it’s toll on my fashion sense, and the last year and a half spent working nights in a bookstore definitely didn’t help either. I gave up worry about my clothes and decided to explore the house a bit. Harry hadn’t told me not to, and he hadn’t warned me to stay out of the ‘east wing’ like in Beauty and the Beast or anything like that, so I assumed it was okay.  
  
I came across the kitchen and was startled to see we weren’t alone. The chef introduced himself, and told me what he was making us for dinner. He said he was excited to finally meet Harry’s special guest, and it was nice to have people in the house again.  
  
_‘Special guest? I’m special? Harry’s staff knows about me?’_ I supposed they would have to know I was here, and that made me feel even more weird, because it wasn’t just Harry and I. A noise drew me towards the back of the house. It was definitely Harry, I recognized this voice, but he sounded a little different. I stood in the doorway of what must have been his studio. He was sitting on a couch to the side with a guitar singing something. Seeing him with his guitar again reminded me of the video he sent me of him singing my own personal version of ‘Hey There Delilah.’  
  
“Hey,” I said quietly and he stopped playing.  
  
“Elloise, just the person I was thinking about,” he said a little too loudly, like maybe he was drunk.  
  
“That was a nice song,” I said, and spotted a bottle of what must have been expensive scotch at his feet. I’d never seen Harry drunk before, he didn’t really drink too often, so I didn’t know what to expect.  
  
“Thanks, I wrote it.” He put his guitar away and returned to that bottle of scotch.  
  
“Really? That’s pretty cool,” I smiled and moved a little closer to sit with him, but he stood up.  
  
“That’s kinda what I do, Ells, I’m a musician.” He stumbled on the word ‘musician’ a bit but didn’t seem to care. “Come on let’s get dinner.”  
  
He was a little odd during dinner, which at first I assumed was from the alcohol, except he continued to act like this until we left for France two days later. ‘Perhaps he was just jet-lagged; I certainly was,’ I thought, and tried to enjoy the trip. He, again, had some stuff to do that did not involve me, so I got to be a tourist in some of the nicest cities in Europe: Paris, Barcelona, Milan… it was a dream come true. Except, my boyfriend was being distant and would not make eye contact with me when (if) we spoke. We had separate hotel rooms, and even though we did travel together, he was always with his manager and a few other people.  
  
_‘Okay, maybe we’re doing this too fast. Maybe I should go home’_ I thought as I lay by the hotel pool. Except, I didn’t really have a home anymore, because I’d given up my apartment and sold my car, furniture, and whatever I didn’t need anymore. I’d have to live with my parents. I shuddered at the thought and took a sip of my drink. As I wandered back up to my hotel room I saw Harry in the hallway and ran after him.  
  
“Harry!” I shouted and he eventually stopped.  
  
“I’m really busy Ell,” he said and checked his phone.  
  
“You were walking toward your room but turned around when you saw me. Are you avoiding me?” I asked, and started to feel hurt, no longer able to convince myself he was ‘just tired’ or somehow drunk for a week straight.  
  
“No, I just don’t really want to talk right now, or here,” he looked around, but the hallway was empty.  
  
“I should go. This wasn’t a good idea. I thought we were on the same page, but clearly we’re not.” I said quietly, trying not to cry, and turned to head back to my room. There were already tears stinging my eyes by the time he put his hand on my shoulder to stop me.  
  
“Ell, wait,” he dug for his room key in his pocket and he pulled me into his room.  
  
“I don’t want you to be late for, whatever,” I said quietly and wiped my eyes.  
  
“I wasn’t going anywhere, you’re right. I was,” he paused. “I was avoiding you.”  
  
I knew it, but it hurt so much more to hear him say it. I couldn’t hide it anymore, and sat on the end of his bed crying. He handed me a box of tissues and sat down next to me.  
  
“Do you really love me?” He said quietly after a moment. He sounded small and a little vulnerable, and it made me want to kiss him and give him a hug.  
  
I was startled, because I was expecting him to say ‘we’re over’ or something like that. “Yes, Harry, I love you.” I turned to look at him, and his soft green eyes were filled with sadness. He quickly looked back at his phone.  
  
“This turned up right after the picture of us together got out.” He showed me a picture I didn’t even realize existed, and the butterflies in my stomach turned to lead.  
  
“How-who even took that?” I started, but realized I needed to defend my actions. “It’s not what it looks like. I mean, it is; he and I were on a date, but I never saw him after that. He was just someone my roommate knew from work, she thought it would cheer me up or whatever after I visited you in New York.”  
  
He was quiet for a minute, and I really, really wanted to ask him how he had a picture of my ‘date’ but I knew this was not the time. I played with my nails impatiently while he thought.  
“Why would your roommate think you needed cheering up?” He again sounded quiet and small, and I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around him and hug him until this  
all went away.  
  
“Because, Harry, you said you didn’t think we could be together? You kind of broke up with me,” I looked back up at him, and again saw those eyes glimmering with hurt and pain. Did he not know he broke up with me? “Being with you had been, basically, the highlight of my post-hockey life.” It sounded a bit dramatic, but it was true.  
  
“I’m sorry; it was selfish of me to think you’d wait for me to get my life sorted out, if that ever happens…” He looked away. “I didn’t realize I’d hurt you that much.”  
  
“Harry, it’s not your fault. I’ve been in a bad spot in my life recently, and you were like the unicorn that brightened my life for a moment.”  
  
“A unicorn?” He smiled.  
  
“Because you’re too good to be true,” I half joked.  
  
“I’m not, though, clearly,” he looked back at the picture on his phone and zoomed in on my face. It was blurry, but you could clearly tell I was fake-smiling at the guy, nodding at whatever he said as I stuffed my face with pasta.  
  
“How do you have a picture of that?” I finally asked. “You’re not stalking me, are you?” I tried to joke, but he didn’t seem to return my humerus tone.  
  
“I’m not, no, that would be creepy, but,” he paused. “My management team looked into you when I said I wanted you to travel with me and stuff. Just as a precaution, in case you were trying to use me or something. They just showed it to me last week, I should have just asked you about it then.”  
  
“Right,” I kind of understood, but I still felt a bit violated. “Was someone following me?”  
  
“No, he just happened to be in Ottawa for a few days and decided to check you out in person, or at least that’s what they told me,” Harry looked doubtful, and a bit guilty.  
“But this was two weeks before you told me you’d been thinking about ‘us’, you know, when I thought you wanted to break up with me, even though we weren’t really dating.”  
  
“I made up my mind about you much earlier than that, like, when we had dinner on the roof of the hotel and watched the sun set. I guess I should have told you.” He paused. “I just didn’t want to ruin it; I didn’t want anything to change by actually saying it out loud and putting a label on it.”  
  
“I get that, but you have to talk to me about stuff like this. Because I felt the same way. I wasn’t sure if I liked you, or the idea of you. Actually,” I stopped and looked up at him. “The idea of you terrifies me.”  
  
He laughed. “What do you mean by that?”  
  
“You’re in One Direction! You’re Harry fucking Styles!”  
  
He nodded, “I know.”  
  
“That’s scary to an average person like me. That picture of us getting dinner together scares me even more, because now I’m worried your fans will come after me. Harry, I don’t want to get murdered by a nine-year-old.”  
  
He laughed and looked down at me, wrapping his arm around me for the first time since we left LA. I leaned into him and let my head rest naturally against his shoulder, like it belonged there.  
  
“They’re not going to kill you, but we will try to keep this quiet. Trust me, it’s easier that way,” he kissed my hair, and I felt all the tension between us over the last week melt away.  
  
“I really wanted to go to the Eiffel tower with you when we were in Paris. I didn’t even got to see it, there were too many other things I wanted to see and we weren’t there very long,” I sighed.  
  
“Maybe, on the way home tomorrow, we can get dinner on top of the Eiffel tower. It’ll have to be at like, 3 in the morning so no one sees us, but it’s prettiest at night, anyway.”  
  
“That would be lovely,” I said and nestled further into his arms. Things were finally okay, and as long as we talked to each other about stuff like this, I think we’ll be okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t really sure how to write “Yoko Ono” in past tense verb form, hopefully it made sense : ) I had to re-read that chapter (‘Until Ottawa’) to make sure I got the timing and wording right.  
> Also, this might be Harry’s inspiration for ‘Woman’ and every song where he says ‘we don’t talk about it…’ (which is nearly every song on the album). I think Harry must have communication problems! : )


	14. Dressed Up Like a Christmas Tree

   
“What color do you want to paint your nails?” Harry asked me as we looked over the colors available.

“It’s almost Christmas, so I’m thinking red and green,” I answered and picked out the shades I wanted. “You?”

“Something sparkly, maybe gold?” He pointed out the nail polish he’s interested in.

“That would look stunning on you, babe.” I answered and settled in to let the beautician do her work. I’d never gotten my nails done with a guy before, but it felt so natural with Harry, sitting in his living room listening to some Fleetwood Mac and sipping on mimosas. We had settled in a bit more since returning from Paris last week, and Harry was back to his usual self around me, if not even more affectionate than before. Maybe it was just the Christmas spirit, but I also felt a lot happier and relaxed.

I looked at my nails as they were drying and admired the colors, and frowned.

“What’s wrong, you don’t like it?” Harry asked.

“No, I love it, they’re really nice, but, almost too nice. Compared to even my nicest clothes, this is like wearing diamonds on my nails.” I waved them in the light and watched the light glitter off each red and green nail like rubies and emeralds.

He scrunched up his nose and twisted his mouth into an apologetic half-smile. “Not going to lie, your whole wardrobe needs some updating.”

“Thanks, we can’t all be as stylish as you, Styles,” I replied sarcastically. “Besides, I’m unemployed, I can’t use my life savings just to buy new clothes.”

“Ellie, I don’t mind buying you a few new clothes if you want to look nicer when we go out.”  
“Harry, I couldn’t-”

He cut me off. “Ell, this t-shirt cost like $200. Really, I don’t mind giving you a couple thousand dollars to go shopping.”

“What?? You could get that same shirt for like $15 at any department store,” I balked. I reached out to touch it, to see if maybe this shirt had magical healing powers or something.  
“Yes, but it’s so soft, and doesn’t wrinkle,” he smiled, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it sure was soft. “But Ellie, it doesn’t matter how you’re dressed. You’re just meeting my family.”

“Just meeting your family? Harry, this is one of the most important moments in our relationship. I feel like you’re going to be dressed up like a fucking Christmas tree, and I’ll be in like jeans and a hoodie.”

“Why would I be dressed as a Christmas tree?” He laughed.

“I meant as dressed up as a Christmas tree, not dressed like a tree. Like, flashy and festive, and what not. You have a unique style, you know.”

“I know.” He smiled. “But it’s just my family, they won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“I’ll just get one outfit, okay?”

“Okay, but I insist on paying for it.” He took out his wallet and handed me some cash. “I would just give you my card, but they might think you stole it.” He teased.

“Why don’t you just come with me?” I suggested. I hated taking his money, and it would feel a little less awkward for me if he was there.

“I think people will see us,” he answered. “I’d love to, but it’s too risky.”

“Remember when you and the guys were in costume for SNL and we all had dinner in central park, and no one noticed?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Just wear some normal looking clothes and hat. And put your goddamn hair up. I think that’s your most recognizable feature.” I reached out to tousle his hair, and tucked a lock behind his ear.

“I don’t think it’s that easy, Ell.” He answered.

“Come on, let’s just try it, okay? As long as you don’t smile, no one will know who you are?” For real, those dimples would give him away in a heartbeat, not matter how he was dressed.  
He got a cheeky grin, and raised his eyebrow. “I have an even better idea.”

 

It was dark, around 10:30, when we finally left. Harry was dressed in his usual ‘Harry’ type outfit- tight black pants and a floral shirt, a cap on his head to keep his hair in check. I’ve never used the back entrance to a store before, so I felt a bit like we were breaking in. The store was empty except for a few employees and a couple people from Harry’s team, mainly bodyguards in case anything went wrong.

“How much has this shopping trip cost you?” I asked him and glanced around the empty store. Surely he must have paid a decent amount to keep the store open late.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Get whatever you want.” He smiled and led me into the store. I had never been in this kind of store, since it wasn’t likely to be found in the mall in Ottawa. I looked around in awe at the fancy clothes, not even knowing where to start.

“Harry, I…” I was speechless. “What do you want me to try on first?” He must have had something in mind if he picked this store. I watched him look at a few dresses before settling on something that looked like it might be a shirt, not a dress.

“No, no way.” I shook my head and laughed.

“Come on, just try it on. I want to see how it looks on you.” He had a glint in his eye that gave me an odd sense of confidence, so I agreed.

“I’m just trying it on, okay?” I grabbed the garment and left for the changing rooms. I wasn’t even sure I was wearing it properly, but when I opened the curtain from the dressing room, Harry was waiting for me.

“Damn, Ellie,” he reached down to run his hand along the hem of the dress. “Can’t take you home to mother in a skirt that short.” He grinned, and I wondered if he’d paid the store employees enough to let him fuck me right here in the dressing room.

“Right, so maybe something more appropriate?” I tried to get him back on track, but his mind was set on one thing.

“How about this?” He brought over another ‘outfit.’ I would have thought it were a bathing suit?

“Harry, I’m not wearing that to Christmas with your parents…” I looked at him disapprovingly, but couldn’t stop myself from falling for his advances. Sometimes he was like a drug - just one look and I was under his spell. “What about this dress?”

“What, are you a librarian?” He joked, and I put it back on the rack. “Maybe something more like this?”

“Harry,” I answered pleadingly. “You know that’s not really my style.”

“Okay,” he held up his hands. “What do you want to wear?”

I looked around the store for a minute before settling on something that looked more ‘me’ than anything Harry had suggested. “This?”

“Ellie, I think that item is from the menswear line.” He explained and apologetically smiled.

“I don’t care. You said I could have whatever I wanted.” I shrugged, not deterred by his response.

“Do you think they even have it in your size?” He began looking through the rack of clothes for the smallest size.

“I just want the pants,” I helped him look. “I’ve found men’s pants are usually more comfortable, and they actually have pockets.”

“You know, I could get a pair of these trousers too, and we could be matching,” he grinned.

“Really? I think that would be kinda cute actually.” We found the right sizes went to the dressing room to try them on.

“These would look great with matching ugly Christmas jumpers,” he said as we admired them in the mirror together.

“They would! Let’s go pick one out,” I grabbed his hand and led him toward the sweaters. I looked through a few before I found the perfect one. “Look at this, it even lights up!”

“A Christmas tree, eh? That is brilliant,” he took the sweater and held it up. “Guess I will be dressed up like a Christmas tree after all.”

 

 


	15. Anne, Not of Green Gables

Harry and I looked pretty damn cute in our matching Christmas outfits, but on the inside I felt like I was going to be sick I was so nervous. Even though Harry had told me all about his family as we drove up to see them Christmas eve, I was still very anxious about meeting them.

  
“Don’t worry, they’re going to love you,” he said.  
  
“They won’t think I’m, you know, only dating you for your money?” I asked hesitantly.  
  
He gave me a confused look and laughed. “Ellie, don’t be stupid.”  
  
“You’re right, I’m sure once they meet me they’ll realize I’m not smart enough to trick someone into dating me so I can become their parasite.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant. I think, or I hope, at least, they trust my judgement enough to pick a girlfriend who likes me for who I am, and not my net worth.” He explained, but I did not feel any more relaxed.  
  
“But Harry, I’m so… I’m nothing compared to you. I work in a bookstore and have no dreams of ever achieving anything greater than that.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. I was working myself up over nothing, I just didn’t want to ruin this first impression.  
  
“Actually, you don’t even work in a bookstore.” Harry teased, and for a moment I laughed before the anxiety set in again. “We’re here.”  
  
“What? Why didn’t you give me any kind of warning?” I started breathing fast and panicked as we drove up the driveway.  
  
“Ellie, it’s okay. You trust me, right?” He looked me in the eye after we’d parked, and I nodded. “Then, believe me when I say it is going to be fine. They are going to love you. If anything, I should be scared my mom will bring out the family photo albums to show off my baby pictures to you.”  
  
I laughed and thought my mom would probably do the same thing. “Okay.”  
  
As Harry promised, it was fine. His mom gave me a big hug, his sister was really nice and teased Harry about his hair, and his step-dad was very friendly. I don’t know why I thought they would just stare at me like I was some kind of intruder in their personal family holiday, but it seemed silly now.  
  
“You haven’t seen ‘Love Actually’?” Gemma asked in disbelief. “We have to watch it now. Harry? How have you not shown your girlfriend the best movie ever?”  
  
“Maybe after dinner,” Anne interrupted their sibling bickering. “Would you like more to drink?”  
  
“Yes please,” I held out my glass as she came over with the bottle of wine. “Thank you.”  
  
“So Harry tells us you play hockey?” Anne asked as she returned to her seat.  
  
I nodded and blushed. “Recently I’ve been playing with a local team, nothing serious, but I used to play in college.”  
  
“And your brother plays professional hockey?” She asked.  
  
“Yeah, he plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins,” I replied, and tried to steer the conversation topic away from me. Luckily Harry caught that I was nervous, so he asked his mom about some relative he hadn’t heard from in a while.  
  
After dinner we settled onto the couch to watch ‘Love Actually’, with Harry sandwiched between Gemma and I. They were super excited for me to see the movie for the first time and pointed out all the different actors by naming characters they’ve played in other movies. (“There’s Snape! And that kid’s on Game of Thrones!) After the movie ended, Anne brought us hot chocolate and we opened presents.  
  
By the end of the night, Gemma and I had the crazy idea to braid Harry’s hair, so we each took a side of his head and gave him pigtails. They didn’t line up, and it looked pretty bad, but he was very cute about it.  
  
“So we actually get to sleep in the same room?” I asked as we went to bed. While we did still have separate bedrooms at Harry’s house in London, most nights one of us usually ended up in the other’s bed, if he was around.  
  
“Yes, we do. I don’t think my mum cares since we’re both adults,” he grinned.  
  
“I don’t think my parents would like that, regardless of how old we are.” I thought out loud as we changed into our pj’s.  
  
“So, speaking of your parents…” Harry left the question unanswered.  
  
“What?” I asked. “You want to meet them?”  
  
He shrugged. “It would be fair, since you’ve met mine.”  
  
“You saw my brother at the Rangers game,” I reminded him.  
  
“I don’t think that counts,” he gave me a teasing smile and we crawled into bed. “Do they even know we’re dating?”  
  
“No. I have to tell them, though, don’t I.” I stared up at the ceiling and waited for Harry to turn the light out.  
  
“What’s stopping you from telling them? Are you embarrassed?” He teased, but his eyes looked a little sad.  
  
“No, I just don’t even know how I’d say it. Like, ‘mom, dad, I’m dating a member of One Direction.’ I can’t even imagine those words coming out of my mouth in front of my parents.” Okay, so maybe I was a little embarrassed.  
  
“Then don’t say that. Tell them you have a boyfriend, and he loves you very much, and he would do anything to make you happy,” he leaned over and kissed me goodnight. “And he just happens to be in a boy band.”  
  
I giggled, and remembered his taunt earlier that evening. “Actually, you’re not even in a boy band anymore.”  
  
“1D is still together, we’re just taking a break.” He defended, and I laughed.  
  
“Right, we’ll see about that,” I kissed him goodnight. “Merry Christmas, Harry, I love you.”  
  
Harry fell asleep instantly, but I stayed up too late thinking about what he said. He’s right, I do have to tell my parents who I’m dating. After all, I left the country and moved to London to live with him.  
  
  
The next morning I woke up earlier than Harry and went downstairs to find his mom making breakfast.  
  
“Would you like any help?” I asked.  
  
“That would be lovely, hon,” she answered. “You know, I can really tell Harry likes you.”  
  
“Really?” I asked and helped her set the table.  
  
“Yeah, he’s just got that look in his eyes.” She smiled. “After the way he talked about you the last time he visited, I’m really glad you guys were able to work things out.” She smiled, and I could tell Harry had gotten his smile from her, and that made me feel a bit more comfortable.  
  
“Yeah, me too,” I smiled to myself and Harry walked in rubbing his eyes.  
  
“I hope you aren’t talking about me,” he said tiredly. “That would be embarrassing.” He slid his arm around me and kissed my forehead. “We have to leave soon to get you to the airport.”  
  
Right, back to Canada to see my parents. I sighed as I remembered what Harry and I had talked about last night. At least I had his mom’s approval, so I didn’t have to worry about that. Now I just needed to figure out how to explain Harry to my mom…  
  
  
  
  
“Your present will be waiting for you when you return,” Harry explained as he drove me to the airport.  
  
“You got me something else?” We had already exchanged gifts last night, I wasn’t expecting more. “You didn’t have to do that.”  
  
“Yes, and, yes I did,” he smiled teasingly.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I can’t tell you, you’ll see it when you get back from Canada.”  
  
“Why do I have to wait?” I complained. “Is this so you’ll make sure I actually do come back?”  
  
“Ellie, I know I don’t have to bribe you with gifts to make you return from spending the holidays with your parents.” He teased.  
  
“True, especially after I tell them we’re dating, I’ll want to get out of there as soon as possible.” I sighed. This was officially the most stressful Christmas ever, and it wasn’t even half over. But Harry was right, I just had to tell them the truth, tell them we love each other, because that’s all that should matter, right?  


 


	16. Styles, Harry Styles

 As tradition, Scott and I played hockey with a few of our childhood friends the day after Christmas. Most of us picked on Scott for playing in the NHL, even though we were all jealous of him. He had a game the next day, so he left that afternoon, but not before accidentally bringing up my new boyfriend to my parents.

  
“Is this why you suddenly moved to England without an explanation?” My mom asked and eyed me. I glared at Scott before turning back to my mom.  
  
“Yes, actually, it is.” I nodded. I was not prepared for this, despite having thought about it on the plane ride here. I still could not figure out how to explain Harry to my parents.  
  
“That’s lovely, I’m glad to see you’ve found someone. I was worried, after,” she paused, and decided not to finish her sentence. “Well, I’m sure he’s a nice boy. What’s his name?”  
  
“Uh, it’s Harry.” I didn’t need to say his last name. She’s probably never even heard of him, right?  
  
“It’s not Prince Harry, is it?” My mom teased, and I blushed again.  
  
“No,” I laughed. _‘Not exactly’_ I thought and again glared at Scott. Why had I told him about Harry? Oh, right, because he’s my brother and I trusted him.  
  
“What does he do for work?” My dad asked, and Scott stifled a laugh.  
  
“He is a musician.” I swallowed hard and tried to change the subject.  
  
“Oh? Anyone we’ve heard of?” My mom asked.  
  
“Probably not.” I was so embarrassed by now I thought I would be sick. “Scott, we have that hockey thing?”  
  
“That’s not for a few more hours?” He protested, but I got up and grabbed his arm.  
  
“We have to get there early to set up.” I said through clenched teeth, and he got the hint.  
  
“Right. We’ll see you guys at the game, I guess,” he said to our parents before I ran out the door.  
  
Scott insisted on driving, and when he turned on his car, One Direction started blasting from his radio.  
  
“Oh hey, it’s your boyfriend,” he teased and I reached over to turn it off. “No, I like this song.”  
  
“Really Scott?” I asked as we fought for control of the radio.  
  
“No, but some of their songs aren’t bad.”  
  
“Scott, I don’t even listen to their music, why would you want to do that? What if the Pittsburgh Penguins found out you liked 1D?” I teased.  
  
“You don’t listen to 1D and you’re dating them?” He asked.  
  
“I’m not dating them, I’m dating Harry.” I corrected him and changed the radio to something else.  
  
“You don’t even like your own boyfriend’s music?” He laughed and I rolled my eyes.  
  
“It’s not bad, it’s just not my type. Besides, that’s not why I like him,” I added.  
  
“Really?” Scott asked. “Then why do you?”  
  
“Why do I like him?” I stared at him. “You sound like mom.”  
  
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing. Especially after things with Glen ended so terribly.”  
  
“No, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m sure about him. He’s nothing like Glen, don’t worry. He wouldn’t abandon me while I was critically injured, like Glen did,” I scoffed. Scott had been friends with Glen, and even though they drifted apart after we broke up, he always defended him whenever I scorned Glen’s behavior.  
  
“Well, he didn’t exactly abandon you. You chose to stay when he had to leave.” His tone was awkward, mostly because we had never directly talked about this before. “And then you, you know…”  
  
“What?” I turned to look at him, and thought he was joking. Glen’s words from New York flashed through my head like lightning and set my heart racing.  
  
“He seemed to think you guys were going to try to work it out long distance until you got better and could move to live with him. But, then you…” He trailed off again and kept his eyes on the road ahead of us.  
  
“Oh God, he thought I cheated on him.” I held my hands up to my mouth as this sunk in. “That’s what he meant when I saw him after the game!”  
  
“It was also only a few weeks after he’d left,” Scott added and glanced over at me.  
  
“Ugh, why do I suck at talking to boys about things that really matter.’’ I hid my face in my hands and slid down in my seat as we pulled into the ice arena. I tried to recall that final conversation I’d had with Glen before we ‘broke up’ but it was foggy with all the pain medication I’d been on, and time seems to change memories in your favor. Had he really not broken up with me? I could have sworn he had just left me there, crying, in my hospital bed, thinking he was leaving me because I wouldn’t follow him to the States while he played hockey.  
  
“That’s not how it happened,” I finally said. “He left me, so I found someone new. We just hooked up a few times, really, it wasn’t serious, I don’t even remember his name.” Okay, I do remember his name, it was Ryan, but that’s not important.  
  
“It’s okay, I wasn’t there, this is just what Scott told me. But yeah, that’s probably why he was so mad to see you with your new boyfriend in New York, at his game, even a year and a half after you guys broke up.”  
  
“You know what makes this even worse? It’s ironic, really, but I kind of just did the same thing to Harry. After I saw him in New York in October, he said he wasn’t sure if we could date, since he’s, you know, him. And I figured it was over because it seemed so unrealistic and illogical that someone like me could just date Harry Styles, you know?” I looked at Scott, and he nodded. “So my roommate set me up on a blind date. Just one date, and I hated it, but someone got a picture of us. I don’t know how, or why, but it turned up recently when that picture of Harry and I together got out. Harry was all broody and wouldn’t talk to me for a week until I finally got him to tell me what was bothering him.”  
  
“You just have bad luck when it comes to communication with guys.” Scott added after a moment.  
  
“No, people just need to be more clear about whether or not we are dating,” I added with a hint of a smile. “The arena’s not even open yet, let’s go get a drink.”  
  
We each got a pint while we waited the hour for the ice arena to open, and I decided to text Harry.  
  
_*Harry promise me we’ll both try to talk about stuff that’s bothering us before it becomes a problem, I don’t want to mess this up_  
  
I re-read my text and hit send before putting my phone away. A couple other friends met us at the bar before the game, so I tried to socialize, and soon forgot about texting Harry or what Scott had said about Glen.  
  
After the game, our parents took Scott and I to the airport. Scott was off to Pittsburgh to play pro hockey, and I was off to London, back to Harry. As if my mom had read my mind, she had to ask me about him one last time before I left.  
  
“I can’t wait to meet your new boyfriend some day,” she smiled and gave me a hug goodbye. “What did you say his last name was?”  
  
_‘Shit’_ I thought and panicked for a moment, until I heard them announcing my flight over the intercom.  
  
“It’s Styles. Harry Styles.” I watched my mom’s face to see if she recognized it, and there was a twitch of something as that name triggered some kind of reaction. “That’s my flight, I have to go, sorry. It was nice see you again!” I walked away quickly before she could realize who he was and practically ran to my gate. I texted Harry once I was settled into my seat and tried to forget I had just told my mom I was just dating a member of One Direction.  
  
Harry had said he’d see me once I landed at Heathrow, but I didn’t realize he would actually be at the airport himself to pick me up. That seemed like a risky move, but he held up a sign with my name on it so I could find him. He pulled me into a hug and gave me a kiss, not caring that people could see us and were probably taking pictures.  
  
“This is very cute,” I pointed out his sign.  
  
“Thanks.” He helped me with my suitcase and led me to his car.  
  
“I thought people only did that in movies,” I teased.  
  
“Well, we just saw _‘Love Actually’_ so I thought it would be cute,” he kissed my hair, and I heard a few camera shutters flick.  
  
“Oh, like the scene at the end, in the airport,” I smiled. Harry clearly knew what he was doing coming out to the airport himself to pick me up, letting people take our picture. I wish he’d told me so I could have looked a little nicer, after taking a 7 hour flight across the ocean.  
  
“So, what is this all about?” I asked once we were safely in his car. “I was expecting to be met by one of your bodyguards again, or literally anyone other than you.”  
  
“You didn’t want to see me?” He joked. “Actually, it’s your fault. That text you sent me made me think. You never did explain that, you now.”  
  
I laughed, “I know, it’s ironic, right? I text you to say we need to talk about stuff more, and then I don’t talk about it. I just meant that I wanted this to work, and we need to communicate better for that to happen, because I’ve discovered I’m a chronic miscommunicator.”  
  
“Really?” He said sarcastically. “Though who am I to tease you about that,” he added quietly.  
  
“So,” I tried to get the subject back on track. “There are going to be pictures of us, together, on the internet soon. Actually, there probably already are. I thought this was something we were trying to avoid?”  
  
“You told your parents, right?” He asked.  
  
“Yeah, kinda. I didn’t really explain it, but I guess they’ll find out now.” I thought about all my friends and everyone I’ve played hockey with and how they’d react. Maybe my name won’t be mentioned, although Harry was holding a sign that had my first name on it (maybe they’d think it was a different Ellie?).  
  
“Don’t worry about it, they’ll just say I was seen with a ‘mystery girl’ at the airport. And trust me,” he looked over with a smirk as we were stopped at a light. “Girl, you are a mystery.”  
  
We both giggled and I rolled my eyes at him.  
  
When we got home he again helped me with my suitcase, even though it was light. As we walked up to my room he stopped and looked back at me. “You seem to have forgotten that I said I had something else for you,” he was smiling in a weird way, and I bit my lip.  
  
“Right, another Christmas present.” I had forgotten, oops.  
  
“Well, it’s in your room.” He led me into my room and turned the light on. Sitting next to my bed were two new suitcases, much more fashionable and attractive than mine.  
  
“Thank you, Harry!” I hugged him and he laughed. He took my old suitcase, opened it, and dumped everything on the bed.  
  
“You won’t be needing this any more,” he teased and put it in the hallway.  
  
“They look much nicer than mine, thank you.” I reached down to touch the designer’s emblem on the pocket. “Matches yours.”  
  
He nodded. “Yup, so people know we’re together,” he joked. “Open them.”  
  
“There’s more?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.  
  
“Oh yes, much more,” Harry grinned.  
  
‘Great’ I thought as I unzipped the first bag and tried to imagine what Harry might have filled the suitcases with. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought. They were both full of clothes. I looked up at him, speechless.  
  
“You wouldn’t let me buy you clothes, so I thought I’d give you some for Christmas,” he smiled and shrugged.  
  
He looked so happy and proud of himself, that I couldn’t be mad. And it was true, I did need new clothes. I stood up and gave him a kiss. “Thank you, I know I can be stubborn, but this was really nice of you. If only I’d had all of these before I had my picture taken at the airport,” I teased.  
  
“I didn’t plan that far ahead, sorry. But now you have nice clothes for the next time we go out together,” he kissed my cheek.  
  
“Next time?” Yikes, this was going to take some getting used to.

 


	17. Ellie Gets Her Life Back on Track

 “Elloise, why would you lie to me about your boyfriend?” My mom yelled over the phone. She hardly ever yelled, and I felt guilt pool in the pit of my stomach, a feeling I hadn’t felt since I’d failed a math test in 6th grade.

  
“What are you talking about, mom?” I knew exactly what she was talking about.  
  
“You expect me to believe you’re dating Harry Styles? That guy from One Direction? I had to look him up, but I thought I recognized his name.”  
  
“Actually mom,” I quickly googled him to see if those pictures of us at the airport had surfaced yet. “I wasn’t lying. I know it’s weird, but just google ‘Harry Styles girlfriend’ and you’ll see pictures of us.”  
  
It was quiet for a moment as I heard my mom tapping on the keys of her laptop. Suddenly she gasped and called for my dad to come over and look. “Oh my God Ellie, how did this happen?” She asked in a low voice, as if I’d been in a car accident or something.  
  
I took a deep breath and looked over at Harry sitting across from me at the table. He was eyeing me with curiosity as he ate lunch, and listened with a smirk as I told my mom the story of how I ended up dating Harry Styles of One Direction. He was grinning by the end of my recount, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.  
  
“It’s really not a big deal, mom.” I concluded. “And yes, you can meet him, eventually.”  
  
“If he has time, I understand he must be very busy,” she answered, sounding a little more calm.  
  
When she finally let me hang up, Harry came back to the table to sit with me. “That was an interesting conversation.” He had an almost smug look on his face and I couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
“Why?” It was certainly awkward as hell.  
  
“I just think it’s funny, hearing your side of how things happened.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘my side’? That’s how it happened, right,” I blushed a little as his eyes searched my face.  
  
He shrugged. “It’s close enough. It’s cute to hear how much you missed me.”  
  
I blushed and looked away, but he kept smiling.  
  
“What?” I finally asked when he didn’t say anything.  
  
“So, now that One Direction is taking a break, I’m going to work on my first solo album.”  
  
“That’s awesome, Harry!” I lept forward to give him a hug.  
  
“I’m pretty excited,” he kept his arms around me, holding me close. “I have so many potential songs floating around in my head and notebooks full of stuff I can’t wait to finally develop into something.”  
  
“I can’t wait to hear it.” I pulled away from him to look up at his face, and he was still grinning, happier than I’d ever seen him.  
  
“We’ll go to LA in a few weeks to start writing it. But until then,” he paused and looked down at me. “I kind of feel like doing nothing. Maybe catching up on everything I’ve missed over the last five years I’ve been touring with the band.”  
  
I nodded. “That makes sense. You deserve it.”  
  
The thing is, if he’s doing nothing, or catching up with his old friends or family, than what am I doing? I felt like I had been doing ‘nothing’ for nearly the past two years and was actually ready to move on and do something more purposeful with my life. I took a couple days to think about it, and it occurred to me, while watching ‘ _The Notebook’_ with Harry for the second time (in a row) what exactly it was I wanted to do.  
  
However, I would need Harry’s help, and I hated asking him for help. Financial help, more specifically.  
  
I decided to broach the subject after returning from our daily morning run together. He had just gotten out of the shower as I was finishing up stretching. I’m not sure why I was nervous, but I kept trying to pick the right moment, making sure he was in a good mood.  
  
“Harry, I’ve been thinking,” I blurted out as he got dressed.  
  
“Uh oh,” he teased and sat down on the edge of his bed to put his boots on. “About what?”  
  
“Well, I kind of want to, maybe,” I looked at my nails and picked off some of the peeling red and green nail polish. “I want to play hockey again.”  
  
“I’m not sure hockey is too popular in London, but I’m sure you can find somewhere to play.”  
  
“I think I want to try playing professionally,” I finally looked up at his face and tried to read his expression. His eyes flitted over my face for a moment before looking away.  
  
“I definitely think they don’t have women’s pro hockey teams in London,” he smiled apologetically.  
  
“I’m still months away from being ready to play at that level again. I need to work out some old injuries in physical therapy first, and then, if I practice a lot, I might be able to play in the National Women’s Hockey League.”  
  
His face lit up as if he’d gotten an idea. “Physical therapy is definitely something we have here in London. And LA, when we move there in a bit. I can have someone look into that for you, if you’d like.”  
  
I smiled and relaxed. _‘This was easier than I thought’_. I moved closer to sit next to him on the end of the bed and wrapped my arm around him for a hug. “Thanks, that would be awesome. I don’t know why I was so nervous to talk to you about that.”  
  
"Nervous? You shouldn't be nervous to follow your dreams. I'm happy to help in any way," he kissed me on the cheek before leaving.  
  
I smiled to myself as I got into the shower. Perhaps seeing Harry look so happy talking about writing his album made me realize how happy I had been when I too was working toward my goal of playing pro hockey. I felt a new kind of energy I hadn’t felt in a while, and could not wait to start physical therapy again.  


 


	18. Icing on the Cake

My physical therapist was amazed when she read my medical history and the injuries I’d sustained in that hockey accident two years ago. She kept telling me how lucky I was not to have neurological damage, and trust me, I am incredibly grateful my head came out of that catastrophe untouched. She set up a plan to get me back on track, but unfortunately I would need one more surgery. It was minor, nothing I should have gotten scared about, but I couldn’t help notice how Harry treated me in the week leading up to the procedure. It’s like I was made of glass and he wanted to wrap me in bubble wrap, keep me safe in any way possible.

  
“Harry, they’re just removing some scar tissue from my shoulder. I’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure him, but he waved it off.  
  
“I know, I just want to make sure nothing else happens to you until then, or after. I’d hate to be the reason you can’t play hockey again.” He was trying really hard (but failing) to sound casual.  
  
I sighed and smiled as I thought about the subject I was about to bring up. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have sex.”  
  
He stopped abruptly, and then continued looking at his phone as if I hadn’t said anything, though he shifted his position a bit and leaned on the dining table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Harry…” I sat down across the table from him and really hoped he wasn’t going to make me say it. “Really, it’s not going to hurt me if we have sex like a normal couple, like we used to before I needed surgery. I have probably needed this surgery for a long time, because I started playing hockey way before I was ready.”  
  
“I just haven’t felt like it, that’s all.” He lied (he’s a bad liar).  
  
“Really?” I asked skeptically, and bit my lip, and he finally looked up at me, meeting my eyes for a few moments.  
  
“So,” he said after a pause. “What you’re saying is, you want to have sexual intercourse?”  
  
I melted a little at the way he said the words ‘sexual intercourse’. “Oh my God, yes.”  
  
“Even though your shoulder-”  
  
“It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.” I interrupted him and lunged forward to help him out of his clothes.  
  
“Right here? On the dining table?” He laughed as I unbuttoned his shirt.  
  
“Sure, why not?”  
  
“Someone’s eager,” he teased and got to work removing my clothes.  
  
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Harry, you’re not the only one that suffers when we don’t fuck.”  
  
He laughed, but got the point and shut up.  
  
As expected, my shoulder was fine. After the surgery, my doctor did advise me to avoid physical activities for a bit, but I assured Harry we’d be fine if we were careful (no sex on the table for a while). By the time my shoulder healed it was Harry’s 22nd birthday, and he threw a huge party. We both had a little too much to drink (I think most everyone there did) and he thought it would be a good idea to tweet something about feeling 22 after Taylor Swift’s ‘22’ played at his party (at my request!). Soon after, we headed to LA to start working on his album.  
  
I was a little surprised when Harry, while giving me the tour of his LA house, pointed out ‘our’ bedroom. We left our suitcases there and headed back downstairs for dinner. Or maybe it was breakfast, I was still getting used to the time change.  
  
“So, I don’t have to stay in the guest bedroom?” I teased, and he laughed.  
  
“No, this room has a big enough closet for the two of us,” he joked and sat down next to me. “Actually, I had never intended to put you in the guest bedroom in London, but when you moved in I was kinda mad at you after seeing that picture of you with that guy. And then I just never bothered to fix it, because I do like having my own space, and I had everything in my room arranged the way I wanted it. Besides, you practically spent every night in my room, anyway.”  
  
I nodded, it was true I barely spent a whole night alone in my own room, the guest bedroom, but it was nice to have a place to put my stuff and call my own, and somewhere else to sleep when Harry’s snoring became too much. The LA house was big enough that space was not an issue. Besides, Harry would be at the studio recording most of the time, I assumed, and I had my physical therapy.  
  
The weather was so nice compared to December in London, which as a Canadian I can’t really complain about the cold, but I prefer snow to dreary, cold rain. It was nice to spend hours on the beach with Harry, just laying in the sun and swimming in the ocean whenever we felt like it. It was almost like being on vacation constantly.  
  
One afternoon as Harry and I were laying in the sun on the sand he rolled over to get closer to me. I looked up from my book at him, seeing my reflection in his sunglasses as he watched me.  
  
“So, at Christmas, you and Gemma braided my hair,” he stated, and I nodded.  
  
“I’ve never braided a guys hair before, that was cool.” I slid a bookmark between the pages I was reading and closed my book  
  
“So you liked it?” He asked.  
  
“Yeah, I guess, why?” This was getting weird.  
  
“Would you like me if I had short hair?” He looked a little more serious now, but smiled hesitantly.  
  
I laughed and shrugged. “Of course, why wouldn’t I? It’s up to you what you do with your hair, right?” I tried to picture him with shorter hair, but I couldn’t. I guessed he would look a bit like when he had his hair put up, depending on how short it was.  
  
“Kind of,” he subconsciously ran his hand through his locks. “I have to cut it eventually.”  
  
“You said you wanted to donate it, right? How long does it have to be to do that?”  
  
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to have to cut it in a few months because,” he paused and smiled again, almost like he was embarrassed. “I’m going to be in a movie.”  
  
I was shocked, but in a good way. Not actually that surprised, though, considering how much he seemed to love being on stage. “No way? Is it a rom-com? It has to be, you love them so much.”  
  
“It’s not actually, it’s WWII movie.”  
  
Okay, that was a bit more surprising. “Really?”  
  
He nodded. “It’s called ‘Dunkirk’ and it’s directed by Christopher Nolan.”  
  
“The guy who did the Batman movies? Wow, Harry, that is really impressive.”  
  
He seemed to blush as he smiled, almost bashfully. “Thanks, I just found out this morning.”  
  
I sat up to look at him better. “Your first solo album, and you get to star in a big movie… I guess you really can have your cake and eat it too.”  
  
“And you’re the icing on that cake.” He laughed and again pushed his hair out of his face. “I’m not exactly the star, it’s kind of an ensemble cast, I think.”  
  
“I can’t wait to see it. When do you start filming?”  
  
“In May, so I’ll have to stop working on the album while we film, for about five months.”  
  
“Five months?” That was along time, but I supposed I would go with him, right? Then again, the National Women’s Hockey League season started in June and ran through September. If I made the team, perhaps we would both be away from each other a lot this summer. My heart started to beat faster at that thought, though whether it was the prospect of finally playing professional hockey that made it race, or the fear of being away from Harry for so many months, I’m not sure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The NWHL actually plays in the fall, not the summer (not sure why I needed to clarify that) but for the sake of this story, they will play in the summer. (Sorry, details like that bother me!) :D


	19. Harry Loses his Hair

 

For the first time since he started working on his album, I visited Harry at the studio and met his band. It was so different seeing him with them compared to how he was around 1D, maybe because this was Harry’s band and he was ‘in charge.’ He introduced me to all the band members, and a few of them came over for dinner afterwards. He seemed very close to his guitarist, Mitch, and I jokingly wondered if they had bonded over both having long hair.  
  
After they left, Harry sat me on the couch in his living room and said he had something to show me. He put a CD into the stereo and came to sit near me on the couch.  
  
“It’s not exactly done, but this is kind of the rough draft of the first song we’ve completed for the album. It’s, uh, it’s called ‘Kiwi’.” He explained and nervously tapped his foot. As the song started playing I was immediately shocked by the difference between this and the few things I’d heard Harry playing over the past few months. However, given his taste in music, I don’t really know what I was expecting. I tried to listen to the song without looking at Harry or having any kind of reaction, but it was hard with him sitting right next to me. My head was swarming with thoughts by the time the song came to an end, and I didn’t even know where to start.  
  
“What do you think?” He finally asked.  
  
“It’s certainly quite catchy,” I started, and finally looked up at him and he laughed.  
  
“Thanks. Anything else?” He looked as if it were obvious what I should comment on, and it was, but I was working up to that.  
  
“Kiwi...why kiwi?” I asked.  
  
Harry shrugged and laughed to himself, but didn’t say anything.  
  
“I have a couple theories...and I don’t like most of them.” I eyed him sternly and tried to keep my emotions in check. Harry had given me no reason to believe any of them, but I had to ask.  
  
“Okay, let’s hear them.” He leaned forward to rest his chin on his clasped hands.  
  
“New Zealand. People from New Zealand are called kiwi’s…” I looked up at his face for a reaction, but he kept smiling. “Or, one of those cute birds, the Kiwi bird…”  
  
He laughed, but still didn’t comment.  
  
“Did you get a kiwi pregnant?” I couldn’t stop from laughing, and he moved closer to sit next to me.  
  
“Yup, you got me, Ell.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I had sex with a little green fruit and knocked it up.”  
  
I laughed, but didn’t feel more at ease. Those lines kept replaying in my head and the implications behind them were making me feel sick.  
  
“Your other ideas?” He asked. “You said you had a couple.”  
  
“They’re stupid, nevermind.” I shook my head and blushed.  
  
“No, I want to hear it. You’re like my crash test dummy; you’re the first person I’ve shown the song to, and I want to know what you think. Also, I’m not paying you, so I know I’ll get an honest answer.” He smiled reassuringly and waited for me to continue.  
  
“Did you get someone pregnant?” I bit my lip to keep from smiling, because as said it I realized how dumb it sounded, but I had to hear it from him.  
  
He smiled and shook his head. “No,” he laughed. “You really think I’d write a song about that? And let the whole world know I messed up like that?”  
  
I smiled and shook my head. “No, I guess not. I just had to know. Because, that’s kind of how it sounds. And kiwi’s are about the size of… well, I don’t know how far along a fetus would be the size of a kiwi, but maybe that’s when you found out?”  
  
“Ellie, I have never impregnated anyone.” He laughed. “It’s just a song, don’t look into it so much,” he kissed my cheek. “But you like it, right?”  
  
I shrugged. “Yeah, I do, but that part really gave me a heart attack.”  
“Ell,” he leaned over to look me in the eyes. “Not all of these songs are necessarily about me. There’s a whole group of us writing these songs, and sometimes we get inspiration for a song from the most random things. If you must know, a friend of mine overheard his neighbor’s arguing. I guess they’d had some of his sperm frozen so he could have a vasectomy. When they got divorced, she still had some of it, and decided to use it to have a baby. When he found out, that’s when she said ‘I’m having your baby and it’s none of your business’. I thought it was fucking hilarious, so I put it in a song.” He smiled, and I finally relaxed and smiled back.  
  
“Is that legal? Can she do that?” I smiled back, but a thought occurred to me and it turned into a frown. “Though, now I’m realizing that maybe I’ve said something dumb and you’ve written a song about it.”  
  
He laughed, probably longer than he needed to. “Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Oh God, you haven’t written a song about me, have you?” I cringed and leaned back little.  
  
He shook his head, and got up to retrieve the CD. “Not exactly, but right now you are one of my biggest muses.”  
  
“Lovely, can’t wait to hear the rest of your album,” I whimpered.  
  
“This is for you; something for you to listen to while I’m not around this summer,” he handed me the CD with Kiwi on it. “Just don’t lose it, or let anyone else hear it.”  
  
“Thanks, I’ll listen to it every time I miss you,” I joked, although honestly I might actually end up doing that.  
  
A few days later I got an idea from a weird dream I had, and approached Harry one afternoon.  
  
“Harry?” I asked quietly. He was leaning over his desk reading something, his hair falling over his face.  
  
“Hmm?” He looked up from his book and his hair fell back out of his face.  
  
“Can I try something with you?” I asked hesitantly. “I’ve never wanted to do this with a boyfriend before, so I’m not sure where this is coming from.”  
  
His eyes lit up and he grinned a cheeky smile. “Okay, love, what is it?”  
  
“Can I play with your hair?” I bit my lip to keep from smiling as he laughed and ran his hands through his long hair.  
  
“Um, yeah I guess so. I haven’t brushed it today-”  
  
“That’s okay,” I cut him off and held up a hair brush and elastics. “I brought supplies.”  
  
He laughed and let me get to work on his hair. I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy brushing his hair, running my fingers through it and untangling his curls. He has such beautiful and thick hair I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, considering I knew how little he took care of it aside from washing it.  
  
I looked down at the book he was reading and realized it was the book I’d given him for Valentine’s Day last month. The book was ‘The Mysterious Affair at Styles’ by Agatha Christie. I got it for him because I thought the title was funny, but he seemed to be enjoying reading it.  
  
“So, is this because I told you I was going to have to cut it off soon?” He finally asked.  
  
“Yeah, I guess so.” I started working his hair into a braid, this time trying to make it even and look nice. “I never really thought about you not having long hair. I guess I just took it for granted that this was how you’d always look.”  
  
“It’ll be weird, for sure. I’ve had it a couple years now, so it will take some getting used to.” He answered, putting his book away.  
  
“Do you know how short you’ll need it for the movie?” I cringed, hoping he wouldn’t need a buzz cut. I wasn’t too familiar with 1940s military haircuts, to be honest.  
  
“I’m not sure, but I think it’s shorter on the sides, and a bit longer on the top. Not too short, though.”  
  
“And how long do you think you’ll keep it after that?”  
  
He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it, but I don’t think I’ll it grow out like this again.”  
  
“No, really?” I whined. “I guess I’ll get used to it eventually. But until you get it cut, you can expect me to touch and play with your hair as much as I can. Maybe we can try straightening it!”  
  
He laughed, but conceded. “You can do whatever you want with my hair.”  
  
As promised, I tried to do something fun with Harry’s hair every day until he had to have it cut. Even if it was just brushing it at the end of the day, I still loved running my hands through his long locks. Occasionally we would take a bath together and wash each other’s hair. I’d never done this to anyone, let alone a boyfriend, so it was a very unique experience, that (I think) brought us together a bit. There is something special about having someone wash your hair for you, even if he doesn’t quite do it the way I’d like.  
  
When the day finally came to cut his hair, I was nearly in tears after having spent the last month falling in love with his hair. He had a friend film it for his ‘Behind the Album’ documentary, and I did not want to be seen in that, so I kept myself out of shot. It was so nerve wracking, and I could tell Harry was nervous as well, as his stylist cut his hair. It was like he was losing a piece of himself, something he’d developed his public persona around the last few years. But, this was also a way for him to start over. Not only for ‘Dunkirk’ but for his solo album, as just ‘Harry Styles’, not ‘that guy with the hair’ from One Direction.  
  
It was painful, and I think Harry was a bit emotional too, as his hair was chopped off. I wanted to reach forward and touch it, but I waited until the camera was gone before touching his new shortened hair. He looked so much younger I almost wanted to cry! Sometimes I forget he’s several years younger than me, because he acts so mature. But now, with his shorter hair, he looked so much younger than me! It’s like he’s a whole new Harry to me.  
  
But really, he’s the same boy who came into my bookstore last August and asked for a book because he was ‘lonely’ and ended up asking me up to his room for breakfast. He’s the same boy who sang me my own personal version of ‘Hey There Delilah’ because he missed me while he was on tour. He’s the same Harry who brought me to meet his parents at Christmas, and who gave me a bunch of new clothes for Christmas because I was too stubborn to let him buy me some. He’s the same guy I sleep next to every night, who makes me weak in the knees just by saying my name. He is, after all, still my Harry.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually love Agatha Christie, and that book is the first book I had read by her (and also the first book she wrote!). I thought it would be cute if Ellie gave him books for birthday/Christmas/whatever considering they met in a bookstore, and because what do you get Harry Styles for his birthday??
> 
> Those are all my weird theories on Kiwi. Honestly, Harry probably just saw a bowl of fruit and was like, “Kiwi, that’s a good name for this song.” (Or he secretly likes to torture us.). I stole Harry’s explanation of Kiwi from an episode of Brooklyn 99 (when Charles’ ex wife won’t give him his sperm back).
> 
> What are your theories behind kiwi? Has Harry actually talked about that song?


	20. Harry's Love Letter #1

 Dear Ellie,May 21, 2016

  
I thought I would write you a letter, as if I were actually a soldier in WWII. Sure, we text every day, but I thought it would be more realistic, and romantic. Writing love letters is something that should never have gone out of style (no pun intended).  
  
Filming a movie is so much more than I could ever have imagined. To be honest, this is incredibly insane. In a good way. My first day on set was absolutely crazy, I thought ‘what the fuck have I gotten myself into?’ But Nolan is amazing, and we all feel like we’re going through this together.  
  
I know what you’re thinking, ‘Can he actually act?’ To be honest, I don’t know? He puts us in the craziest situations, with fire and explosions, that I feel like we’re all just reacting to our environment. So far, I have not had an issue messing up my lines, despite the fire and brimstone hailing down around us (there are actually spitfires dive bombing us, have I mentioned that?).  
  
Remember all those lazy afternoons we spent swimming in the ocean? You were getting back in shape for hockey, I was unknowingly getting ready to swim, fully clothed, for my life. I am more tired than I have ever been, but the cast is wonderful and we all get along, mostly because we are all going through this same experience together.  
  
I miss you playing with my hair: braiding it, brushing it, or whatever you were doing to it. I miss having you around every day, but most days I’m too tired to even think about that after filming. But it’s there, lurking at the back of my mind; ‘What’s Ellie doing today?’ I’ll think, or ‘how are her hockey try-outs going?’  
  
I wonder if this is how my character Alex felt when he was on this exact beach here in Dunkirk. Looking over the channel at England, hoping his sweetheart got his letters. He’s kind of a dick, though, so maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend.  
  
I hope you liked the hockey tickets I got you. When I heard your brother’s team was in the playoffs I figured you would want to go. I wish I could be there to watch with you, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it more without me asking what’s going on every five minutes. Sorry, I still haven’t quite figured out the game of hockey. But I’ll have to learn if I’m going to watch you play pro hockey this summer!  
  
Good luck with try-outs, I’m very proud of you, princess!  
  
I wish I could be there for you, but I’m sure you’ll do fine without me.  
  
As always, lots of love.  
  
Love,  
  
Your frog prince

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why I don’t normally switch POV when writing, because I’m bad at it! I’m sure Harry is much more eloquent than this, but at least we finally get to see his perspective (other than how Ellie sees it, which is skewed at times) and their cute nicknames for each other.


	21. Harry Loses his Mind

I missed Harry more than anything, and getting his letter was exactly the lifesaver I needed to get me through the NWHL tryouts. I thought it was so cute he signed it my ‘frog prince’ and almost cried at the hilarious memory sparked by that name. Back when we were still living in LA, I had heard somewhere that his fans thought he looked like a frog, so I asked him what was up with that. He shrugged and said he didn’t know, and pretended not to think about it the rest of the day. That night, as we were getting ready for bed, I found him standing in front of the mirror looking at himself from different angles.

  
“Harry, what are you doing?” I laughed, and grabbed my toothbrush.  
  
“I don’t look like a frog,” he said, and met my gaze in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. “Do I?”  
  
I giggled and almost accidentally spit my toothpaste all over him. “I don’t know, maybe it’s your eyes?”  
  
“My eyes?!” He leaned in closer and looked at his eyes, not an inch away from the mirror. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”  
  
I took my toothbrush out of my mouth and tried not to spit toothpaste all over him as I answered. “Nothing. Maybe it’s because they’re beautiful and green, like a frog?”  
  
This seemed to cheer him up, and he turned to me with a cheeky grin. “You think frogs are beautiful?”  
  
“Shut up and brush your teeth,” I laughed, and he dropped the subject.  
  
Thinking back on it now, he kind of does have frog eyes? But I do think they’re pretty (his eyes, not frogs).  
  
I kept re-reading his letter and wondering if I should write back. But what would I say? We text often enough, and to be honest, there isn’t really anything exciting going on in my life worth writing to Harry about. Like, ‘I got the mail today, woo! Most of it was for you and I gave it to your manager’s assistant when he dropped by. I went grocery shopping and avocado’s were on sale!’ Yeah, I don’t have anything interesting to write to Harry about, yet.  
  
Tryouts for the New York Riveters had gone over okay, though I thought I could have done better. I was still getting back into the mindset of playing professionally, and had been a bit out of practice. I even met with Scott a few times and told him to really go hard on me, since he had sooo much experience playing pro hockey (that’s sarcasm, btw!). Although, he had been a bit distracted lately, since his team, the Pittsburgh Penguins, are in the Stanley Cup Playoffs.  
  
I may sound jealous, but I’m actually insanely proud of him! The tickets Harry somehow got me were amazing! And I’ve been to as many games as I can, it’s convenient they’re playing the New York Rangers in this series (though I have to see my ex, eww). It’s so much more nerve wracking watching them in person, especially knowing my twin brother is down there on the ice playing some of the most important hockey of his career.  
  
When I got the call regarding whether or not I had made the team, I was home alone, in Harry’s New York apartment, listening to the one song they had recorded on repeat. It’s not that I liked the song a lot, it was nice enough, but I just missed his voice. The recording wasn’t even that good, since it was just a demo or whatever, but it was enough for me.  
  
It seemed to take forever for the Riveters to get back to me, but their General Manager called me in the middle of the week to tell me they wanted me on the team.  
  
“Thank you! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me!” I replied, keeping back tears, as Harry sang ‘I’m having your baby!’ in the background on my bad recording of ‘Kiwi.’ I struggled to turn it off before my new GM heard any more of it. “Sorry, I’m, uh, grocery shopping, it’s kind of loud.”  
  
“That’s okay, I won’t take up too much of your time. I have several more people to call, although you were the last person to make the team, actually.” He said, and I wasn’t sure how to respond, but he continued. “I look forward to seeing you at practice Monday morning. Welcome to the Riveters, Ellie.”  
  
“Thank you!” I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him. When I got off the phone, I sat still for a moment and tried to take it all in. Was that real? Did that really just happen? I looked through my call history to make sure that conversation had actually just taken place, and that I hadn’t imagined it.  
  
I called my parents first, since they were the ones who’d brought Scott and I to hockey practice at 6 AM when we were kids. We ended up talking for a while, and then I called Scott, but he was busy so I left a voicemail. I called a couple more people, mostly friends from college I’d played hockey with, and finally sat back down on the couch and tried to wrap my head around this.  
  
‘I’m going to play professional hockey.’ I repeated in my head over and over again, and that giddy feeling of untethered excitement bubbled at a simmer.  
  
The gentle whirring of the CD paused in the stereo snapped my brain back into focus. “Harry!” I picked up my phone and started to call him when I realized I’d forgotten him. I knew he probably wouldn’t answer, because he was usually either on set, or asleep, so I left him a message, and figured he’d get back to me when he had time. I wish he’d been here so we could celebrate together, but that would have to wait until he visits sometime next month.  
  
Practice started the next week, and we all got there a little early to move our equipment into the locker room. The one downside of playing hockey, as opposed to another sport like tennis, or soccer, is the amount of stuff needed to play. Most of it is protective padding, so I’m extremely grateful, but having to lug it around is a pain.  
  
I nearly dropped all of my stuff when I walked into the locker room and saw my jersey hanging up, waiting for me, with my usual number 7 on the back and my name across the bottom. Last names are usually at the top of jerseys, but the NWHL decided to put the names at the bottom, I guess so our hair doesn’t cover it up.  
  
I got dressed as quickly as I could, and couldn’t wait to get out on the ice with my new teammates. It had been so long since I played on a team like this, and I was so excited to finally be back on the ice competitively. It was like the first day of school, getting to know new people, seeing some people I hadn’t seen in awhile. A bunch of us had played together or against each other in college, or other leagues, when we were younger.  
  
I was winded by the end of practice, but that was just motivation to get back out there again and get into better shape. A couple other girls were planning on going out after practice, as an unofficial team bonding kind of thing, and I planned on tagging along, except someone pulled me aside to talk.  
  
“The owner would like to meet you,” she said as I finished up getting dressed after practice.  
  
‘Uh oh,’ I thought. ‘Only my first practice and I’m already in trouble’  
  
I followed them down the hall to the section of the arena with offices; each team that used this arena seemed to have an office, and we finally stopped in front of the door with the Riveters’ logo on it. I let myself into the office and closed the door behind me.  
  
It was quiet; there did not appear to be anyone else in the room, though the desk chair was facing away from me, and with it’s tall back I couldn’t see if there was anyone in it. Just as I was about to clear my throat or something to let my presence be known, the tall backed chair slowly started to turn.  
  
‘Okay, this is oddly dramatic’ I thought, until I caught a glimpse of who was sitting in that chair. I was shocked, speechless, and could not even find it in me to say ‘hello’ to our new team owner.  
  
“Hello Ellie, I’ve been expecting you,” he joked, but I didn’t find it very funny.  
  
“Harry!” I hissed. “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t sure if I should be happy to see him, or angry because he was playing a trick on me.  
  
“Didn’t my assistant explain that to you?” He asked and stood up from the chair. “I own the New York Riveters.”  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry now owns the team she plays for! Ellie is clearly not happy about this!
> 
> Boston Pride is actually my NWHL team (since I’m a New Englander) but New York just made sense for them. The Riveters have the amazing Amanda Kessel on their team, and her brother actually plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins (just like Ellie’s brother)!


	22. Sex Before Cake

“What are you doing here??” I hissed.

“I suddenly had some time off, and I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled.

“Harry, are you serious?” I asked again. “You bought the team I play for? Is that why I made the team?” I thought back to that phone call, how the GM said I was the last person to make the team. Maybe Harry had insisted, and someone else was kicked off to make room for the owner’s pathetic girlfriend?

He shook his head. “No, they really wanted you on the team. Besides, I didn’t tell them I was your boyfriend. I didn’t even buy the team in my own name, I thought it would be safer to use a third party.”

“Third party?” A horrible thought snuck into my head. Had he used my name to buy the team?

“You remember my guitarist, Mitch?” He asked, and I nodded. “Technically he owns the team, but only for documentation purposes.”

“That won’t cause suspicion? Wasn’t he working in like a pizza shop when you found him? Now he randomly owns the hockey team your girlfriend plays on?” I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice.

“Maybe, but people don’t know you’re my girlfriend. We’ve been seen together a few times, but nothing’s confirmed.” He shrugged. “I just thought this would be a good way for us to, I don’t know, have something in common.” He looked down and rested his hands on the desk, his initial enthusiasm starting to fade.

“Is this why we’re all suddenly getting paid a lot more?” I asked after a pause. The other three teams in the NWHL struggled to pay their players, making little on ticket sales. I sighed as I realized perhaps Harry might actually attract some attention to the sport and boost game turnout a bit.

“They were not getting paid nearly enough considering how hard you all work,” he answered, and added, “and now, you’ll have your own money, so you don’t have to feel bad about asking me to buy you stuff.”

“But Harry, it’s still your money! You own the team, you pay our salaries,” I sighed angrily.

“I don’t really know what I was expecting, but I thought you’d be happier we get to spend more time together.” He finally raised his eyes to meet mine and I was shocked at how sad he looked. He wasn’t disappointed, or embarrassed, he just looked sad and hurt. He was a master at the puppy dog look, and it always made my heart break, but this was so genuine.

I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head. “Harry, I’m sure many people on this team are grateful for the extra income, and the potential publicity you could bring this sport, but at the moment I am not one of those people. I think it’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything.

“I have to get my equipment and stuff, but I’ll see you at home.” I turned and left him alone in the office, not wanting to accidentally say something I’d regret. I just needed to cool off and clear my head before talking to him again.

I took my time getting my things together in the now empty locker room before heading home. As I rode the elevator up to our apartment I tried to mentally prepare for what I’d say to him. But once I got up there, it was empty. He, nor his suitcase, or any other sign of him, was in the apartment. I took a long shower to clear my head and then sat down on the couch with a drink to wait.

I made myself dinner, wondering if I should make enough for the two of us, or if he wasn’t coming back tonight. I ate alone in silence and watched my phone for any messages from him. I finally texted him to say I’d made dinner if he wanted any, but there was no reply. I grabbed another drink and parked myself in front of the TV to wait for him, and ended up watching another one of his favorite rom-com’s, ‘Pretty Woman’, until I fell asleep.

A stirring around 1 AM woke me up and I jumped up, fearing a break in, or worse.

But it was just Harry, stumbling around and ‘trying’ to be quiet. I flicked on the light and he turned to look at me.

“Sorry, love, did I wake you?” He asked, and it was clear he’d been drinking. His northern accent always got stronger when he’d had a few drinks, and he’d certainly had a few (and then some).

“It’s fine, I fell asleep on the couch.” I flicked off the TV and went to the kitchen where he was now leaning on the counter to support himself as he got a drink of water. Maybe it’s because I was tired, or maybe it was the way he kept shyly smiling at me as if I couldn’t see it, but I suddenly felt horrible about how I’d reacted this afternoon. I wanted apologize and give him a hug and kiss his adorable face. “I’m sorry I was so-”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted me. “It didn’t even cost that much. I mean, it did, but it wasn’t really any more than the nice pair of diamond earrings I was going to get you for your birthday. Because your birthday was last week, wasn’t? I realized diamond earring’s aren’t really your thing, and I wanted to get you something you wanted. And what have you always wanted? You said it yourself, playing pro-hockey has been your dream since you were a little girl.”

His wide eyes looked over at me, barely focussing on my face, and I felt the air get sucked out of my lungs as I tried to respond. “How did you know when my birthday was?” I asked quietly, knowing I had never mentioned it to him. I hated to make a big deal out of birthdays, probably because I’d grown up having to share one with my brother.

He laughed and looked back down at the floor. “Ell, you have a twin, I’m assuming that means you have the same birthday. His stats are listed on the Penguin’s roster, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Happy belated 24th birthday, love, I got you a hockey team.” His tone was not sarcastic, or snide, as I would have expected, but 100% genuine, and I could see in his eyes he really meant it.

“You bought me a hockey team for my birthday?” I was on the verge of crying I was so happy and shocked and somehow proud of him? But I had never cried in front of Harry, and I didn’t really want to break that habit.

He moved closer to slide his hands around my hips, drawing me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder, where a few tears escaped my eyes and soaked into his shirt.

“I love you, Ell, and I wanted to get you something you would really appreciate, something you actually wanted. I know you don’t like jewelry that much, or care about fashion, so I bought you a hockey team.” He leaned back to look at me, my face still firmly planted in his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed my forehead before resting his head on mine. “I’m sorry if you thought I’d missed your birthday.”

I leaned away from him and shook my head. “No, Harry, that’s not it. I knew you were busy, and didn’t expect anything.”

“I could have had flowers sent, or I could have sent you a video of me singing you ‘Happy Birthday’ while naked, or something…”

“Naked? Now that’s something I’d like to see…” I smiled for the first time that evening and he smirked in return.

“As I said, I could have bought you diamonds, but really, that’s not you, is it?” He asked rhetorically, so I stared up at his bright green eyes and waited for him to continue. “I thought, maybe, this would be something we could do together. Even if I’m just cheering you on from the sidelines, I want to be a part of your hockey career, because I love you, Ellie, I love you a lot.”

I buried my face in his chest and hiccuped another quiet sob before replying. “I love you too, even if you do drive me crazy.”

We both fell into bed and had really sloppy, tired, drunk sex, but it was what we both needed at that moment. As usual, I slept in longer than he did, so he took it upon himself to get me a proper birthday cake.

“Ellie, I’ve got a surprise for you in the kitchen,” he called to me, and I dragged myself out of bed. I rubbed my eyes a few times, but I must have still been dreaming, because there, in the kitchen, wearing absolutely nothing, holding a cake with candles ablaze, was Harry in his birthday suit for my birthday.

“Harry, you naughty boy,” I laughed, and he started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. I laughed hysterically the whole time, and unsuccessfully blew out the candles I was laughing so hard.

“Did you make a wish?” He asked and set the cake on the the table.

“What could I possibly wish for with an amazing boyfriend like you?” I asked and kissed him.

“I don’t know, world peace, or something like that,” he teased.

“I can’t take you seriously when you’re dressed like that,” I laughed, and turned away from him to grab a knife to cut the cake.

“Dressed like what? I’m not wearing anything!” He laughed.

“Exactly! As much as I want to eat this delicious looking cake, you’re giving me all sorts of thoughts,” I turned back to him and bit my lip.

“It’s your birthday, you can do what you want.” He raised his eyebrow suggestively and sent a swirl of sparks through my body.

“Oh? And what if the thing I want to do, is you?” I smiled bashfully, and he picked me up to set me on the table, right next to the cake. “Okay, but don’t mess up the cake, I really do want to eat it. But sex first.”

He laughed as he removed the cake from the table. “That’s my girl, sex before cake.”

 

 


	23. Harry Plays Hockey

  

“So, now that you own a hockey team, I think it’s time you learn a thing or two about the sport. By learning to play.” I handed Harry some skates and watched his jaw drop.  
  
“You want me to play hockey?” He looked up at me from the couch.  
  
“Consider it penance.”  
  
“Penance?” He followed me to the door. “For buying you a hockey team?”  
  
“For going behind my back and buying the hockey team that I play for!” I grabbed my purse and we headed down to the parking garage. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”  
  
“Oh boy,” he gave me a worried smile as we got into the car. “Just don’t break me, Nolan’s only given us a week off.”  
  
“Don’t worry, we’ll both be wearing full hockey gear.”  
  
It was just he and I on the ice that morning, to preserve his anonymity. I was surprised how well he could skate(he said something about a 'Night Changes' music video?), so we didn’t spend too much time on that. Instead we worked on how to hold the stick and handle the puck.  
  
“Let’s try shooting the puck at the goal,” I tried to direct him over to a good place to stand in front of the net. I showed him a few examples, and he copied me pretty well.  
  
“Okay, but it’s easy enough shooting on an empty net.” He gave me a sly smile  
  
“No, no no no…. I’m not letting you hit a puck at me.” I skated backwards away from him as he tried to lure me toward the goal.  
  
“Come on, I won’t hit it that hard.”  
  
“I know, your shot is pretty weak,” I teased (though it was true).  
  
“Hey, it’s only my first time playing,” he gave me those puppy dog eyes and I shook my head. “Come onnnn…”  
  
“Okay, but don’t hit my head!” I couldn’t believe I was letting him do this, but honestly I needed a little practice defending shots, so why not?  
  
“Don’t worry, love, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.” He grabbed a puck and lined up the shot, sending it to the left corner where I easily blocked it with my stick. He gave me a couple more shots I easily stopped.  
  
“Come oh, Harry, you can do better than that,” I teased, and he shot me a grin. He grabbed a few more pucks and sent a hard shot right past my shoulder, but didn’t get in the net. “Damn, Harry, you nearly took my head off!”  
  
“Sorry!” He called and looked apologetic.  
  
“No, that’s good! Just try to get it in the net next time.” I gave him a thumbs up and he set up another shot. He raised his shoulders to wind up, and swung, hitting the puck straight at me. I saw it in his face before I saw the puck coming right at me, slowly blocking my view of his worried and apologetic face as the puck collided with the protective caging on the front of my helmet.  
  
I fell backwards, more out of surprise than from the force of his shot. I fell back into the goal, landed on my butt and slid to the back of the net. Harry came stumbling after me and fell down halfway to the goal. He slid into the goal next to me, apologizing a mile a minute.  
  
“Are you okay? Oh my god Ell, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, fuck, I’m sorry Ell, are you okay?” He sat up and watched me take my helmet off.  
  
“Harry, I’m fine,” I laughed and let him inspect my head for damage, as he insisted, even though the damage would probably be inside my head. “That’s why helmets have masks, so our faces are protected.”  
  
“God, Ell, I’m so sorry,” he took off his helmet and looked me in the eyes, maybe trying to look for a sign of a concussion? “I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, I swear I was aiming for just over your shoulder again.”  
  
“Good, if you were aiming for my head we’d be having a different discussion,” I teased. “But really, I’m fine.”  
  
But he kept staring into my eyes, until he slowly leaned forward and gently kissed me. Leaning into him, I kissed him back, until I pushed him down onto the ice (carefully, so he wouldn’t hit his head).  
  
“Damn all this hockey gear,” he laughed and tried to take my jersey off, but the lights in the stands turned on one by one and slowly lit up the rest of the arena. “Shit.”  
  
“Put your helmet back on so no one recognizes you,” I whispered and put my own helmet back on, adjusting my jersey. I helped him up and we quickly skated off ice, Harry nearly tumbling as we got to the edge. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Harry, what are they doing here?” The arena was supposed to be empty for a couple hours. “Too bad you don’t still have long hair, you could just pretend to be someone on the team,” I teased.  
  
“Don’t worry, I own the team, it’ll be fine,” he smirked as we were met by someone on the way to the locker room.  
  
“Are you guys with the Riveters? You aren’t supposed to be here until this evening,” he said, and looked back and forth between Harry and I.  
  
“I’m sorry, we were just practicing. We thought the ice was empty,” I said before Harry could open his mouth.  
  
“You guys are already skating on thin ice, no pun intended, the management of the arena is not happy with that new owner.” He tsked and shook his head.  
  
“What?” Harry said, and I jabbed him with my elbow before he could say anything else.  
  
“Changing the logo and team colors, making us repaint the team logo on the ice and in the locker rooms…. You guys aren’t the only team who uses this ice.” He shook his head again.  
  
“Sorry, that’s quite inconvenient,” I glared at Harry and he kept his mouth shut. “We’ll just change and be out of your way.”  
  
“Your owner will hear about this, for sure!” He shouted after us, and we both snickerd.  
  
“Oh, I will?” Harry joked once we were in the locker room.  
  
“So you’re the one who changed our jerseys and team colors?” I asked as we took off our equipment.  
  
He shrugged. “I thought it needed a little more… pizazz. I didn’t realize it would be so difficult.”  
  
“A lot of the girls had to buy new socks to match the new colors.” I added.  
  
“They have to buy their own socks?” He looked bewildered. “Also, these are considered socks?”  
  
“Yes,” I laughed, and watched him unclip the ‘socks’ from the belt that holds them up (almost like a garter belt). “We buy all of our own equipment, only the jersey is provided by the team.”  
  
“Really?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at the pile of equipment we had just taken off. “You have to take care of all of this on your own? With your already meager salaries?”  
  
“We get paid much more, thanks to you, but yes.” I explained.  
  
“Hmm…” He seemed deep in thought as we got out of our equipment.  
  
“Uh oh, what are you planning this time?” I asked, and helped him with the shoulder pads.  
  
“Nothing, maybe a little surprise for the first game tonight,” he smiled, but wouldn’t offer any explanation.  
  
“This better be good…” I gave him a wary smile, and we packed up our stuff before getting out of there as fast as possible. When we got home I took a nap before the game and Harry had some ‘private phone calls’ to make. I could only imagine what his ‘surprise’ was for us tonight.  
  
We left for the game separately, since I needed to get there much earlier than him. Upon entering the locker room, we all found new hockey gear waiting for us, compliments of the new owner. I was expecting maybe some new skates or sticks, but this really was quite generous of Harry. I texted him quickly to say we all loved it before getting into my new gear.  
  
*Can’t wait to see it on you tonight ; )  
  
I laughed at his response, and replied: *Do you want me to wear this to bed??  
  
I didn’t see his reply because the coach came in to talk to us before our first game. He said the new owner was here watching us tonight, and a murmur spread through the locker room. I hid a smile and pretended to be intrigued by this ‘mystery’ owner who had given us new hockey gear. As we skated onto the ice to warm up I looked up at a the private rooms in the upper levels of the arena and knew Harry was watching us from one of them.  
  
Our first game was against the Boston Blades. They had one the the Isobel cup in the NWHL championship last year, so we knew the were a good team. They were certainly quite tough on us, and their star player, Hilary Knight, scored on our goalie twice. By the end of the game we were trailing 3-1, and as the seconds ticked down I knew Harry was up there watching us, probably disappointed.  
  
He sent me a text asking me to come up after I’d finished changing. Not too happy with the loss, I took my time wandering up to the higher levels of the arena and slowly found which room he was in. I could hear him talking with someone, or multiple people, before I opened the door, and before I saw them it hit me who he was conversing with: my parents.  
  
“Ellie!” He smiled broadly and wrapped me in a hug. “Nice game, I thought you played well.”  
  
‘Really? We lost…’ I nervously looked between the three sets of eyes watching us, not sure what to say.  
  
“I thought your parents and brother would like to see your NWHL debut, so I flew them in to surprise you.” Harry explained when it was clear I had no idea what was going on.  
  
“More surprises, eh?” I said quietly to him with a smirk. “Thank you, I really am grateful they could be here. I only wish we had done better.”  
  
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sis. I lost my first NHL game, and look where we are now,” Scott smiled. The Pittsburgh Penguins were on their way to the Stanley Cup Finals against the San Jose Sharks, so he had a point. But it didn’t feel like that right now.  
  
“Harry suggested we go out to dinner after the game, if you’re feeling up to it.” My mom said, and smiled at Harry before looking back at me.  
  
“That would be great,” I answered.  
  
“Lovley. I know this great place that has the best poutine,” he shot me a glance and we shared a knowing look, as I thought back to that time we got poutine together in New York last October. We had certainly come a long way since then. “And,” Harry continued, and looked back at my brother. “I’d love to hear the rest of that story about Ellie’s first summer at hockey camp.”  
  
_‘Oh great,’_ I thought. _‘My brother and my boyfriend are getting along…’_  
  
Wait, isn’t that a good thing? _‘This is going to be fun…’_  


 


	24. Harry's Love Letter #2

Dear Ellie, July 6, 2016

  
Happy (late) Canada Day! That was the first of July, right? Sorry you guys didn’t want to be British anymore ; ) At least you guys were polite about it, unlike the Americans.  
  
I must say, what little I have learned about hockey, I am immensely proud of your brother’s team for winning the Stanley Cup Championship. Perhaps this is just secondhand pride, but I am so happy for him and you! I just wish I could be there to celebrate : ( sorry princess.  
  
Speaking of hockey, I’m glad to see the Riveters are doing better. Perhaps now that their ‘mystery owner’ has left the country you guys don’t feel as much pressure, being watched from up above. If they only knew how little I understood the sport! But I’m learning, slowly but surely, I am learning the rules of hockey. Like, I just learned what the blue line was for; now I get why you defencemen (or should I say defencewomen?) are called blue liners. Because you stay on the blue line when in the offensive zone, so you can scurry back to protect your goal if the play switches sides. (Right?)  
  
I can’t wait for you to visit in a few weeks! I have met so many new people I can’t wait to introduce you to, and show off my professional athlete girlfriend (I’m joking, you know that right?).It doesn’t matter to me your occupation, but I am so proud that you have something you’re passionate about. I’d feel bad if you were just sitting at home, waiting for me to return. Or still working at that bookstore. You certainly seemed out of place there, though it was truly serendipitous we met that night. Imagine if you hadn’t gotten injured in that game and continued playing hockey...we would never have met that night after my concert, when Louis and I wanted to find a book. I don’t know, but (and maybe I’m just saying this because I really miss you?) I think our paths would have crossed one way or another at some point. I’m not quite sure how, though, since I don’t think I would have randomly chosen to go to a women’s hockey game (sorry) and I don’t see you coming to one of my concerts….so maybe we met by chance. You were walking your dog after practice with the Riveters, and I was blindly walking out of a coffee shop, a cup of hot coffee in my hands, when I tripped over your dog and spilled hot coffee all over myself. You apologized in that cute way Canadians say ‘sorry’ and insisted on buying me another coffee, while I peeled my coffee-stained shirt off my scalded skin and pretended it didn't hurt like hell while insisting it was my fault. (did I just write an AU fan-fiction about us? Oops)  
  
I know I promised myself I wouldn’t think about it while filming, but I can’t wait to get back into the studio! And not just because I’m spending every day here in the ocean, fully clothed, trying not to drown. No, I miss getting to strum my guitar lazily as I come up with a song, and trying to work out lyrics. I have so many ideas floating around in my head; I admit, quite a few of them have to do with you. I just miss you, that’s all. And I keep rethinking everything in our relationship and all our inside jokes (I still have that Anne of Green Gables book with me, and think of you whenever I see it). Mostly, I just can’t wait to fall asleep next to you again. Sleeping alone is quite lonely.  
  
Yesterday I messed up this one thing like five times, and each time I had to dry off and get into dry clothes. I felt so bad making the crew and other actors wait while we reset just because I’d messed up, but I finally got it! I hope that part makes it into the film, would kinda suck if it didn’t, after all that. Filming is still quite intense, and sometime (I’m not sure when) we’re changing location. Eventually we will wrap up filming in LA, I think, but that’s not for a long while.  
  
I know I’ve told you this, but I really did like meeting your family. Your brother and I text occasionally, we exchange funny memes and whatever. However, that got me thinking… do you and my sister text??? I’d ask her, but I know she wouldn’t give me a straight answer. She probably has some embarrassing pictures of me she’d love to share with you…. : (  
  
Love,  
  
Your very damp soldier  
  
  
PS. not to sound vain or anything, but did you ever listen to the last 1D album? The one we were finishing up when we started dating? If not, you should check out I want to write you a song….  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t think Harry wrote that song, but I’m going to pretend he did : ) I heard that song recently and thought it felt so perfect!


	25. Dunkirk

It’s funny Harry should have mentioned that song to me in his letter, because in his absence I had found myself listening to more 1D than ever (which previously was none). It’s not exactly my type of music, but I found myself really liking some of their songs. Such as, ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, ‘Fool’s Gold’, ‘Fireproof’, ‘Olivia’, and ‘Perfect.’ I casually mentioned this in a text to Harry, which he responded with a big smiley face emoji (and he never uses emojis, so this was a surprise).

  
Me: _why are you so happy about that?*_  
  
H: _I wrote or co-wrote some of those*_  
  
Me: _which ones?*_  
  
He had to go back to set, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to me until much later, so I decided to look it up. I felt a little weird creeping on my boyfriend’s wikipedia page, but I was just checking out the discography!  
  
Okay, so then I dug a little deeper (I was curious and lonely!) and read the lyrics of some of the songs. I probably shouldn’t have, but I was already headed down the rabbit’s hole. The line ‘if you’re looking for someone to write your breakup songs about, baby I’m perfect’ stood out to me.  
  
Who was known for writing breakup songs about her ex’s?  
  
Who did Harry say he had dated?  
  
It was a long time ago, and he probably only mentioned it to me because I’d asked, but I had not forgotten he had dated Taylor Swift. I hadn’t listened to her music in a while, but I had been a fan of hers when I was in high school. I dumbly decided to look up ‘taylor swift songs about harry styles’.  
  
Yikes.  
  
The fan theories are what got me the most. I was just looking for the songs….  
  
‘Style’ was clearly about him, right? It had to be. So I listened to it, and tried not to picture her, tall, blonde, and beautiful, with my boyfriend. They dated years ago, but I could still see them in my mind doing everything she mentioned in the song. Some of it was probably made up or exaggerated for the song, right? But I moved onto ‘Out of the Woods’ and again, couldn’t stop my mind from getting lost.  
  
I closed my laptop and promised myself I would not get drunk and call Harry demanding he explain this. Because it’s not his fault Taylor Swift wrote a couple (really good) songs about him. But I couldn’t stop myself from from feeling jealous.  
  
Crazy jealous. It was eating me up and I couldn’t get the thought of her with my boyfriend out of my head. I changed my clothes and headed down to the gym to work these thoughts out, hoping to distract myself on the punching bag.  
  
But of course, what should come on the radio at the gym other than a One Direction song? At least it wasn’t ‘Perfect’ or anything else I could associate to Taylor, but it made me realize maybe Harry had written, or was going to write, a ‘Taylor Swift’ song on his new album.  
  
A whole new kind of jealousy tour through me and I hit that punching bag like never before.  
  
***  
  
I felt so out of place on that beach with my sandals and sunglasses, surrounded by hundreds of extras in WWII military uniforms. Even the film crew looked like they belonged there more than I did. When Harry said in his letter that he had ‘so many people to introduce me to’, he wasn’t lying. I felt like I had met the entire cast and crew by the time we finished, when we sat down for lunch with a few more of his castmates.  
  
“This is Fionn, you met him this morning,” Harry introduce Fionn again, as if he knew I wouldn’t remember half the names of all the people I’d met today.  
  
“Hi,” I smiled and waved, and he nodded.  
  
“Harry says you play hockey?” Fionn asked and took a bite of his lunch.  
  
I nodded. “Yup, I play in the National Women’s Hockey League in the states.”  
  
“I’ve never heard of it, sorry,” he smiled apologetically.  
  
“I’d be surprised if you had heard of it.” I laughed. “It’s relatively new, but it’s supposed to be kinda like the NHL, but for women.”  
  
“Sorry, haven’t heard of the NHL either,” Fionn laughed. “I’m not much into sports, unless it has to do with football.”  
  
“By ‘football’ he means soccer,” Harry informed me.  
  
“Thanks, I assumed that,” I laughed, and a couple other people came to join our table for lunch. The conversation changed topic, but I wasn’t really paying attention as I had one thing on my mind.  
  
As lunch wrapped up, I leaned over to Harry and whispered, “I can’t wait to see you tonight,” before giving him a kiss goodbye.  
  
He looked after me, those bright green eyes wide with anticipation, as I left to return to the hotel.  
  
***  
  
Harry ran his finger over my abs gently as he rested his head on my chest. “When did you get so ripped, love?” He asked and chuckled.  
  
I shrugged. “I have a lot of free time now, so I go to the gym.”  
  
He reached across my stomach and gently ran his hand along my arm. “Must be all the hockey, as well, right?”  
  
“I’m sure that helps, but I’ve really missed my favorite kind of exercise,” I answered, and he looked up at me so I raised my eyebrow suggestively to hint at what I meant. I laughed as he realized what I was implying.  
  
“Again? We’ve just finished….” He laughed and looked up at me with tired eyes.  
  
“Harry, I will let you fuck me as many times as you want while I’m visiting. I’ve missed you...a lot.”  
  
He sighed. “I’m not...ready. We just finished like 15 minutes ago, you gotta give a guy some time,” he laughed and pulled himself off me to lean on his elbow.  
  
“You never used to need this much time,” I grinned and bit my lip.  
  
“I guess I’ve gotten used to not doing it as much, now that we don’t see each other as often.” He gave me an awkward smile and rolled over to lay on his back next to me.  
  
“So, you’re saying you’ve grown accustomed to taking care of it yourself?” I rolled over to face him and watched as his brows knitted in confusion.  
  
“What’s gotten into you? You’re like a broken light switch that won’t turn off,” he teased.  
  
“I just miss you, that’s all.”  
  
“Is it all?” He looked concerned now, and I wasn’t sure why.  
  
“I’m just making conversation,” I said.  
  
“By asking me if I masturbated?” His teasing tone was gone now.  
  
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I was just having fun,” I said quietly, and wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed.  
  
“That’s not it, Ell, I know you. You’ve been weird ever since you got here. Being overly touchy and wanting to hold my hand when we’re out in public. You usually hate that kind of thing.”  
  
‘Damnit Ellie’ I thought. I’d done it. I’d let that nasty jealousy work it’s way into my head and somehow convinced myself Harry was cheating on me because of a Taylor Swift song.  
  
“I just don’t want to lose you,” I said quietly and avoided looking at him.  
  
He leaned closer and put his hand on mine. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m right here.”  
  
“I mean I don’t want to lose you to someone else.”  
  
He was quiet, so I looked up at him, fearing he was about to admit it was true, that there was someone else. But his eyes were big and sad, the corners starting to glisten. “Ellie, I would never-”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve just been very on edge recently.” I took a deep breath.  
  
“Is it because we’ve been apart for so long? Why would you think that?” He seemed so concerned, and I honestly wasn’t sure I could even explain why I was feeling this way.  
  
What could I even say? ‘I heard a song your ex-girlfriend wrote about you and now I want to tear her eyes out?’  
  
“Yeah, it’s partly that, but also…” I took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. “Have you written any songs about Taylor Swift?”  
  
He blinked a few times, and then laughed. “Is this about Taylor?”  
  
“Kind of,” I mumbled and felt so stupid for bringing it up. “She’s written songs about you; they made me jealous.”  
  
He slowly rubbed circles on my hand. “I was young, and it was a very public relationship. There was a lot of speculation, and everyone seemed to know what was going on better than we did. It was short, but it seems to have had a lasting effect on both of us, but it’s over.”  
  
I looked into his eyes and saw no reason to believe he would ever cheat on me, and I felt so embarrassed and ashamed for even bringing it up. “I’m sorry, I guess being away from you for so long has really gotten to my head.”  
  
Harry smiled and shook his head. “What are you going to be like when I go on tour?” He asked teasingly.  
  
“That’s not for a long time. You still have to finish your album first, honey.” I teased, glad that we were done talking about that.  
  
“I know, but I’m not working on it right now. After ‘Dunkirk’ I’m going to Jamaica for a few months to hopefully finish it.”  
  
“Jamaica? How excotic, that’ll be fun.”  
  
“You’ll be there, right?” He asked, as if it were obvious.  
  
“Hockey season should be over by then so why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
He smiled, and pulled me into a hug. “Good. I think I do my best writing when you’re around.” He kissed my cheek and let his head fall onto the pillow, falling fast asleep.

 


	26. Ellie Meets the Stanley Cup

When an NHL team wins the Stanley cup, each player on the team get’s their own ‘day with the cup’ over the off season. In mid August, it was finally Scott’s day with the cup and I was freaking out I was so excited! Luckily I did not have a game that day (though I’m sure my boss would have given me the day off) so I had got to spend a couple days at home with Scott and my parents.

  
I was finally okay with Harry owning the Riveters. Not just because I could probably ask to take a game off whenever (though really it’s probably up to my coach, not Harry), but because things were actually improving in the league. I had joked earlier that Harry might attract more attention to the NWHL, and he actually has, while still remaining our anonymous owner. Perhaps it wasn’t him, but his manager Jeff, who arranged for a couple of his ‘friends’ (other celebrities) who like hockey to attend a game. So far it hasn’t been anyone major, but turnout has improved at games.  
  
Actually, the one person we were all excited to see was our teammate Amanda Kessel’s brother Phil Kessel, another hockey player, who also plays on my brother’s team the Pittsburgh Penguins. He was kind enough to bring the Stanley cup to one of our games, and that was a pretty big deal for us. However, I then got to spend an entire day with the cup back home in Ottawa a few weeks later.  
  
There was a big party planned in the ice arena Scott and I played hockey in when we were younger. All of our old hockey buddies and their families came out to congratulate Scott and have a chance to touch the Stanley cup. After his entrance with the cup, Scott handed it to me. I was a little surprised, but I did not hesitate to lift the trophy over my head and give it a kiss, like the team does the night they win the championship. They say it weighs 35 pounds except when you’re lifting it over your head. It truly is quite heavy, and I think I would have embarrassed myself had I not been spending all those extra hours at the gym lately. Scott later explained to me that he presented the cup to me, before we put it on display for people to take pictures with, because it had always been our dream to play in the NHL and win the Stanley cup, and now ‘we’ had done it.  
  
“Maybe the Riveters will win the Isobel cup,” he suggested, hopefully not joking. Since there were only four teams in the NWHL, we had a 25% chance of winning it. However, the way we had been playing lately, it seemed like our chances were much less than that. Playoffs were still a month away, so we had time to turn things around.  
  
By the time the season ended, Harry would just be finishing up filming Dunkirk, and then heading off to Jamaica. He wanted me to come with him, but what would I do? Hang out on the beach? Partake in some ‘extracurricular’ Jamaican activities? Probably not the second one (though I would try it if offered), but could I actually just hang out on the beach and chill for two months while Harry worked on his album? Maybe I’ll get a job, or do something productive like learning a new language.  
  
I pushed these thoughts out of my head and tried to enjoy the party. As the night wound down, Scott and I left with some of our high school friends to get a drink (many drinks, actually), and we stayed out pretty late.  
  
“It’s crazy to think it’s been almost seven months since we were last here and you convinced me to get back into hockey again.” I smiled at Scott. “Now look where we are.”  
  
“And it’s been seven months since you admitted to mom and dad you were dating Harry, and it took nearly that long for us to get to meet him,” Scott reminded me.  
  
“Ugh, you know he’s busy,” I rolled my eyes and looked back into my empty glass, contemplating if I should have another.  
  
“That’s not what he said when he surprised us with a trip to see you play in your first game.”  
  
“Oh really? Then what did he say?” I asked as I signaled the bartender for another drink.  
  
“That he was dying to meet us, and you had put off calling mom and dad for months.” Scott answered.  
  
“Yeah, well, he would say that to impress his girlfriend's parents, right?” I shrugged.  
  
“He said he took the month of January off, that would have been the perfect time, considering you had spent Christmas with his family.”  
  
“Yeah, probably,” I agreed, and watched the bartender eagerly as he mixed my drink.  
  
“So?” Scott turned to face me.  
  
“So, what? I didn’t think that was a good time to introduce him to you guys.” Okay, this should probably be my last drink so I don’t accidentally say something I don’t mean.  
  
“Were you embarrassed?” Scott asked.  
  
“No, I know he wouldn’t care that I grew up in a small house in the suburbs of Ottawa with normal parents. Mom might show off a lot of embarrassing baby pictures, like the one where she accidentally put you in a dress and me in your outfit for Aunt Shelly’s wedding.” We both laughed at the memory of hearing that story told at nearly every family gathering. “Though that’s probably more embarrassing for you than me.”  
  
“Eh, we were only a couple months old, we looked the same.” Scott shrugged. “But what I really meant was, were you embarrassed to introduce us to him?”  
  
Oh. I hadn’t thought of it like that. Was I? I looked back at my drink and took another sip while I processed this. Yes, this should definitely be my last drink of the night. Actually, the one before this should have been my last…  
  
“Not embarrassed, but...I don’t know. I’m really bad at showing my feelings toward people, you know that. Maybe it’s because that one time mom accidentally dressed me as a boy, I got stuck with that inability to express myself all men inherently have,” I joked. “I just wasn’t 100% sure he and I were on the same page for a long time. And then he shows off this tattoo he got for me, and invites me to live with him...and I kinda realized we felt the same way about each other. I had been trying to tell myself that we were just having fun, and if that it ended after a month or so, that it would be okay, because neither of us were that serious. But it wasn’t true, and when he said he loved me, I realized the lie I had been telling myself was exactly that: a lie. I realized I loved him too, and I didn’t know what to do about it.” I quickly finished my drink and hoped that maybe I hadn’t said all of that out loud, but Scott (wise older brother Scott) had a response to it.  
  
“I get that, I totally understand that. You just didn’t want to get hurt. I think that’s totally normal, especially after how things ended with Glen.” He stopped and I looked over at him to see if he was done.  
  
“That’s normal?” I cocked my head and waited for him to laugh at me, or something, but he just nodded.  
  
“Yeah. You know how nervous I was when Vivian and I first started dating,” Scott smiled bashfully. “I thought for sure she’d dump me as soon as hockey season was over, because that’s happened a couple times.”  
  
I nodded. I remembered Scott’s ‘hockey season’ girlfriends. In the fall they dated a star football player, in the winter they dated (a somewhat okay) hockey player, and in the spring they dated a star baseball player. I’m not sure who they dated in the summer. A hot lifeguard?  
  
“But Viv stuck around, and we’ve been together ever since.”  
  
“That’s probably because you got the ‘girl emotions’ from wearing that dress as a baby,” I teased, and he laughed.  
  
“Maybe, but I actually, uh,” he looked around the now emptying bar. “I’ve been thinking of asking her to marry me.”  
  
My head whipped around to look at him so fast I got dizzy. “Really?!?!” I didn’t think he would joke about something like that, so I don’t know why I asked.  
  
He nodded. “I haven’t told anyone, so keep this quiet.” He added.  
  
“Not even mom?” I raised my eyebrows.  
  
He laughed. “No, if I told her I think the whole town would know. You know how she is with stuff like that. However, I do need to get that ring from her.”  
  
“Grandma Marie’s ring,” I said quietly, and recalled the memory of our mom showing us that beautiful ring my grandmother had left to her when she died. She explained that one day, Scott would find a lovely young lady to give it to. Then she paused and looked at me, and said, ‘or, you might?’ Scott and I both laughed, and knew my mom was trying to be progressive by not pushing heterosexual stereotypes on us. However, being a female hockey player and not overly feminine, people at school often wondered if I perhaps leaned the other way.  
  
“You know,” I continued. “Today would have been a great day to pop the question. Right in front of the Stanley cup, with all our friends and family there.”  
  
“Yeah, I didn’t really plan that far ahead, though,” Scott grimaced. “Besides, I’d rather do it somewhere more private, just the two of us.”  
  
That got my brain headed down a track I didn’t even know existed. I wondered if Anne had been saving her mother’s engagement ring for Harry, whenever he was finally ready to settle down. “Stop it!” I shook my head and tried to push those invasive thoughts away.  
  
“What?” Scott asked.  
  
“Nothing, talking to myself.” I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. I tried to clear my head, but that image of Harry with some vintage ring that’d been in his family for generations kept bombarding my brain. ‘Nah, he’d probably buy some huge-ass diamond ring.’ “I’m ready to go home,” I said to Scott, and stood up to pay our tab.  
  
“I got it,” Scott tried to stop me.  
  
“You take care of the Uber, I got the drinks. Besides, you’re going to have a wedding to pay for soon,” I added quietly.  
  
“Shh,” Scott shushed me and got out his phone to get an Uber.  
  
I was somehow inexplicably happy for my brother. I knew she would say yes; they were prefect for eachother!  


 


	27. Harry Who? Part 1

 We only had a few games left in the season as August came to an end. The Boston Blades had beat us, terribly, the last time we played them, so we were eager to get a win today. Yet after the first 20 minutes, we were down 1-2.

  
A light out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up and saw that one of the private viewing rooms in the arena was lit up, one of the rooms our mysterious team owner would watch from when he was around.  
  
‘It can’t be Harry,’ I thought. ‘He would have told me if he were visiting. Then again, he does have a history of surprising me…’  
  
I returned my focus to the ice as the ref dropped the puck and the second period of the game started. I could have sworn that light had not been on when the game started. I always check, hoping maybe Harry has stopped by for a surprise visit, but I know it’s not likely with his filming schedule.  
  
I looked up again when the the play stopped and watched for a moment while we regrouped. There was definitely someone up there, and it might be Harry. He usually stayed away from the window so no one would see him, but when he saw me looking he stepped forward enough so I could see it was really him. He had two other people with him, and they came right up to the glass to wave at me. Was that Anne and Gemma? I smiled back at them, but didn’t want to wave and draw any attention.  
  
Somehow, during all of this (couldn't have been more than a few seconds), the puck dropped and play started without me noticing. The last thing I remember seeing after Anne and Gemma waved to me was was one of the opposing team’s forwards rushing toward me with the puck. She probably assumed I was going to block her, and I would have, had I been paying attention. I didn’t see her coming in time and I was not at all ready for her hit, a hit I could have normally taken easily had I been prepared.  
  
I fell into the boards awkwardly, hitting my head on the way down.  
  
Then the lights when out.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Harry’s POV:  
  
My mom and sister had been begging to see Ellie and my hockey team play ever since the season started. With my filming schedule, that just hadn’t been possible, until recently when we had a setback and Nolan gave us the weekend off. I grabbed Gemma and mum before we took a red eye to New York. I wasn’t even sure we’d get there on time, so I figured I wouldn’t tell Ellie we were coming. I’d hate for her to be disappointed if we didn’t make it to the arena before the game ended. Besides, I think she plays better when she doesn’t know I’m watching.  
  
Luck was truly on our side when we made it to the arena in Newark just as the first intermission was ending. The three of us were able to sneak in the back door and up to the private viewing rooms in the upper part of the arena.  
  
“I can’t believe you own a hockey team, Harry,” his mom said as we watched the players far below. “I’m so proud of you.”  
  
“Look, there’s Ellie!” Gemma pointed out and excitedly waved.  
  
“Why is she staring at us like that?” Mum asked, and moved a little closer to the window with Gemma and waved.  
  
“I didn’t exactly tell her we were coming,” I admitted.  
  
“Harry,” Mum tsked at me and turned back to the ice to see Ellie still staring.  
  
“Sorry, I just didn’t want her to be nervous or anything-”  
  
“Harry!!!” Gemma shrieked and I moved closer to the window to get a better view.  
  
She was on the ground, not moving. My blood turned to ice in my veins as I watched the replay of the hit on the jumbotron. She had been standing there, staring up at us, and didn’t see the other team’s player coming at her. When they collided, Ellie was thrown aside like a doll and hit the boards surrounding the ice. The ref blew the whistle when it was clear she wasn’t getting up and a few of her teammates rushed over to see if she was okay.  
  
The team’s trainer came out onto the ice to examine her and mum, Gem, and I watched in silence, not sure what was happening. The trainer motioned to someone off the ice and my heart stopped when I saw they were wheeling out the stretcher. I know they always have an ambulance on hand, I know they sometimes have to carry players off the if it’s not safe for them to walk...but I never thought it’d happen to my Ellie.  
  
“Mum,” I said quietly, and she held my hand. “I’m scared.”  
  
“We’re all scared Harry. You need to be there for her right now,” she turned to face me.  
  
“What if she’s not okay?” I whispered, blinking back tears.  
  
“Don’t think about that, just get down there and get on that ambulance with her,” she instructed me and pushed me toward the door.  
  
I felt like I was moving on autopilot as my feet carried me down several flights of stairs to ice level. I found the ambulance as it was just closing the doors and begged them to let me in.  
  
“Please, I’m her boyfriend,” I pled, and they stared at me, so confused as to what I was doing there.  
  
“Um, okay,” the paramedic let me in, and I didn’t even notice her whispering to the driver that Harry Styles of One Direction was dating a hockey player and in her ambulance right now; that was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.  
  
“Is she okay?” I asked, as the paramedic checked her eyes and secured a heart monitor.  
  
“She hit her head, we think it might be a concussion. We’ll need to run further tests at the hospital. Can you help me remove her skates?”  
  
I moved to her feet and tried to untie her skates with trembling hands. I had just gotten one off when I heard her say something.  
  
“Where am I? What happened?” She croaked. “It’s so bright.”  
  
“You’re in an ambulance, Ellie, you’ve hit your head, so I’m going to ask you to remain still.” The paramedic explained in a calming voice. “You’re boyfriend is here with you.”  
  
“Who?” She asked, and I moved closer. Her eyes flicked over my face without any sign of recognition.  
  
My heart sank, and I looked over at the paramedic. “Sometimes short term memory loss occurs in concussion patients.”  
  
“How short term? Will it come back?” I asked, feeling the panic set in.  
  
“It’s too soon to say, we’ll know more once we examine her at the hospital,” she said, and continued checking Ellie’s vitals.  
  
I was too impatient for that and leaned over Ellie so she could see me better. “Ellie, it’s me, Harry.”  
  
“Harry who?” She asked and looked over my face carefully, and I felt like I’d been shot. I wanted to hold her in my arms, tell her everything would be okay. I touched her hand and tried to hold it, but she pulled away. I blinked away a few tears and tried to be strong for her, even if she didn’t know who I was.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a sad chapter. I’ve decided to write an ‘alternate ending’ which I will post once I figure out what exactly it is or how long it will be. (It will be sad, very sad, because I’m horrible!) : )
> 
> I’m no expert on concussions, so my description may not be accurate, but concussions are a really big issue for hockey players, and in other sports. Something like this actually happened at the first NHL game I went to, and luckily he was okay, but it’s still scary to see someone taken off the ice on a stretcher. It’s usually precautionary (to prevent further injury until they can be sure they’re okay), but players get hurt all the time and usually end up okay if they’re treated properly. I mentioned her earlier, but Amanda Kessel (of the Riveters) was sidelined for over a year after getting a concussion and didn’t start playing hockey again until last season.
> 
> I don’t normally switch point of view while writing, so hopefully this wasn’t terrible, but in this situation I kind of had to, considering she was knocked out.


	28. Harry Who? Part 2

“Harry who?” She asked and looked over my face carefully, and I felt like I’d been shot. I wanted to hold her in my arms, tell her everything would be okay. I touched her hand and tried to hold it, but she pulled away. I blinked away a few tears and tried to be strong for her, even if she didn’t know who I was.

  
“One year ago, I came into your bookstore because I was lonely,” I looked into her eyes for some kind of recognition. “You gave me ‘Anne of Green Gables’ to read, except this version had-”  
  
“Vampires,” she said quietly, remembering our inside joke.  
  
My heart fluttered as if were beating for the first time, and warmth spread through veins. The paramedic looked confused, but I ignored her and smiled, wiping a tear off my cheek. “Yes, vampires. You said Gilbert Blythe turned her, but I never read that far in the book.”  
  
She smiled, and I could see the damaged cogs in her brain trying to function and piece the puzzle back together. “You’re the cute boy with the long hair and the dimple.”  
  
“Yes,” I laughed, so relieved that she remembered. “Yes I am.”  
  
“But your hair?” She asked, realizing it was short.  
  
“I had to cut it, you were there,” my smile started to fade.  
  
“Mr. Styles, I’m sorry, but I think she needs to rest,” the paramedic said, and I leaned back, Ellie’s confused eyes following me. We arrived at the hospital a moment later and she was wheeled out of the ambulance. I tried to follow, but they instructed me to go to the waiting room and contact her family.  
  
First, Gemma and mum arrived, and by that evening Scott and her parents had joined us. It seemed like hours before the doctor had any news. No broken bones, but she had, as the paramedic suggested, suffered a concussion. He said it was made worse by the fact she had not waited for her previous concussion to heal completely before playing hockey again.  
  
Her parents shook their heads, and Scott said something like, “I knew she wasn’t ready.”  
  
“She had another concussion?” I asked Scott.  
  
“She didn’t tell you? It was a few weeks ago, and it was very minor. She’d bumped her head at practice and took a few games off. She came back a week later and said she felt fine, but I thought she was rushing it.” He explained. “You know how stubborn Ellie can be…” he kind of smiled, but I could tell he felt guilty for not insisting she take more time to heal.  
  
But it wasn’t his fault; if anyone is to blame, it’s me. I bet she didn’t tell me she was hurt because she didn’t want me to worry. The last time I saw her, she said she had been going to the gym more, really pushing herself, because she had ‘more free time’, as she put it. Free time, meaning I wasn’t around to keep her company. Perhaps I was just spiraling now, but I pictured her sitting at home, doing nothing as she waited for that first concussion to heal. Perhaps she really did feel better, or maybe she was impatient to get back to practice because she couldn’t stand being at home, alone, doing nothing.  
  
Mum and Gemma sat with me in the waiting room a while longer, until it was nearly midnight. Scott came out to tell us Ellie was resting, and we should get some rest. He said the doctor was keeping her overnight for observation, and possibly longer, and he would have a better idea of the scope of her memory loss after more tests.  
  
If she couldn’t remember who I was, I might as well go home to sleep. Mum and Gem were already falling asleep by the time we got back to my apartment. I sat in my room, which smelled like Ellie, and stared at the ceiling wondering what the fuck I was going to do.  
  
I’d barely slept, and the next morning Gemma insisted we get breakfast together. I told her what had happened in the ambulance, how Ellie didn’t remember who I was at first, then she didn’t know why I had short hair. “What am I going to do if she doesn’t remember everything?” I asked her.  
  
“Who knows how much she’s improved since last night. You shouldn’t worry about it so much,” Gemma put her hand on mine. “At least she knows who you are, right?”  
  
“I guess, but seeing that look in her eyes, and the way she said ‘Harry who?’ while she looked right at me...it’s something I’ll never forget.”  
  
“Harry, I know you’re like, the king of rom coms, so you’ll probably remember the title, but remember that movie with Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum, where she forgets who he is?” Gemma asked.  
  
“‘The Vow’? Yeah, but…” I was slowly realizing what she was saying. “You mean I should make her fall in love with me again?”  
  
“Or, just help her remember, if she needs it.”  
  
I nodded, a thought forming in my mind. “I think I know what you mean. I need to run home to grab my guitar on the way to the hospital.”  
  
Gemma looked confused, but she didn’t ask. She let me go back to the hospital alone, understanding that I needed to do this on my own.  
  
I felt a little odd showing up at Ellie’s hospital room with my guitar, but her parents and Scott were kind enough to let me see her alone. They said she was doing much better, but no prognosis on the depth of her memory loss, or how long it would take to get it back, if she did. When it was just the two of us, I pulled up a chair to sit next to her.  
  
“No, you can sit here,” she moved over and patted the bed.  
  
“Okay,” I sat on the edge of her bed and looked her over. She looked exactly the same as I’d seen her last time, but apparently the last time she saw me, I had long hair. How long ago was that?  
  
“Hey, um, I forgot to ask Scott, but, did he propose to his girlfriend yet?” She asked, and I shook my head.  
  
“I don’t know, we don’t talk about that kind of thing. You haven’t mentioned it to me, either.” I shrugged apologetically.  
  
“That’s fine, I don’t even remember when he talked to me about it, I just have this memory of thinking about him asking my mom for our grandmother Marie’s ring so he could give it to Viv. And then,” she shook her head and smiled weirdly. “Then I thought, wouldn’t it be funny if Harry’s mom had some ring she was saving for him, like my mom had been.” She laughed and closed her eyes. “I don’t know why I just said that to you. I feel a little drunk, or hungover. Everything is bright, and loud. I think it’s the pain meds.”  
  
I nodded and didn’t say anything, but my heart swelled at the image she described. The fact that she had even thought about that at some point made me smile until my face hurt. Neither of us really knew what to say to the other, so we stared at each other for a moment until she pointed to my guitar in the corner.  
  
“What’s that for?”  
  
“That’s a guitar, Ell, I’m a musician-”  
  
She cut me off with a laugh. “I know, that, Harry. I haven’t completely lost my mind. I mean, why did you bring it?”  
  
“Oh, right,” I blushed a little. “Yesterday, you didn’t recognize me, and when you did, you didn’t understand why I had short hair.”  
  
She nodded. “You’re in some movie, right?” I nodded. “See, it’s coming back. Slowly but surely.”  
  
I smiled. I was so relieved to hear that, but I still wasn’t sure how much she remembered. “I thought maybe I’d play you a song, to help you remember.”  
  
“I’d like that.” She smiled. “But do it quietly, please. Everything is so loud.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll sit over there, and I’ll be quiet,” I got off the bed and sat on a chair. “Let me know if it bothers you, I’ll stop.”  
  
I played the first few notes and watched her, and she seemed okay, so I kept going.  
  
“Hey there Elloise, what’s it like in New York City,  
I’m a thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do,  
Time square can’t shine as bright as you, I swear it’s true,  
Hey there Elloise, don’t you worry about the distance, I’m right there,  
If you get lonely give this song another listen, close your eyes….”

 


	29. Ellie Gets (most of) her Memory Back

 

I again find myself at home with my parents, recovering from another hockey injury, yet again deciding if I go off with my boyfriend, or stay here until I’m sure I’m well enough.  
  
Harry spent as much time with me as he could before he had to return to LA to finish filming ‘Dunkirk’. He could not stop apologizing, insisting it was his fault because he had distracted me, but I could not blame him. Besides that, he acted a little weird around me. Maybe he wasn’t sure what I remembered or not? To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I remembered. If I didn’t remember something, I wouldn’t know that I couldn’t remember it, right?  
  
While Harry finished filming ‘Dunkirk I decided it was probably best that I stay with my parents. I wanted to get out of New York where it was too bright, loud, and simultaneously too many yet not enough distractions. I knew if I stayed in Harry’s apartment I would end up missing him, and probably not making the best choice when it came to deciding if I was ready to go with him to Jamaica or not when the time came.  
  
A few days after I arrived at my parents’ house, Scott dropped by for a visit. I kept getting the feeling that their was something I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t remember what it was. One afternoon, when it was just the two of us, I thought I’d try to ask him, since I think whatever it was had been important.  
  
“So, um, Scott, I think I was going to ask you something, I just don’t remember what it was,” I sheepishly stated.  
  
“That’s okay, I’m sure it’ll come back to you,” he smiled reassuringly. “If it doesn’t, that’s fine.”  
  
“But I think it was something important, maybe about something that happened recently,” I continued.  
  
“Was it about the ring? Because I haven’t asked her yet. That’s why I’m here actually, to get the ring.”  
  
“The ring?” I asked, searching my mind for a reference to what he might be talking about.  
  
“Oh, uh,” he paused.  
  
“Are you planning on asking Vivian to marry you?” I squealed and grinned at him.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” he nodded, but looked concerned.  
  
“Oh, have we already had this conversation?”  
  
Scott nodded, and as he told me about what we’d talked about at the bar a few weeks ago, after his Stanley Cup party. Slowly it came back to me, in pieces and chunks, then suddenly all at once, and I remembered what I had said to Harry in the hospital room.  
  
“That’s why he was being weird,” I groaned, and hid my face in my hands. I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment, though I knew Scott would understand.  
  
“Uh oh, did you say something while under the influence of some pain meds?” He laughed, probably remembering how susceptible I was in that kind of situation.  
  
“I asked if he knew if you’d already done it, if you’d asked Viv yet. He said he didn’t know, and I blabbed about the ring. Then I dumbly told him that I had wondered if he had some family ring his mom was holding onto for him.” I hung my head and wished I could forget that memory again. “But then he sang to me the next day, that was nice. It really did trigger a lot of memories, both good and bad, but at least I have them back now.”  
  
I looked back up at Scott and he was on his phone looking something up. “Well that explains this. I’m guessing you haven’t been online recently....”  
  
I shook my head. Looking at a screen of any kind still gave me a headache.  
  
“Maybe I shouldn’t show you this, then. But whatever, I’m your brother, not his.” He handed his phone over to me, turning the brightness down all the way so it wouldn’t hurt my sensitive eyes.  
  
I read the headline and that was enough for me to get the gist: ‘Harry Styles seen looking at rings’  
  
There was a picture of him in a store leaning over a jewelry case, but it wasn’t clear what he was looking at. I abruptly handed the phone back to Scott and avoided eye contact. “Does it say anything else?”  
  
Scott scanned the article, though I was sure he had already read it. “Umm… nothing specific.”  
  
“Does it mention me?” I cringed, remembering what happened the last time a picture surfaced of the two of us.  
  
Scott shook his head. “No, but there is a lot of speculation about other girls he’s been seen with over the last few years. Even Taylor Swift. I thought she was dating Tom Hiddleston?”  
  
I ignored that last comment, remembering how unnecessarily jealous I had felt listening to her breakup songs about Harry. I tried really hard to come up with an explanation, because there’s no way he was doing what it looked like he was doing (I couldn’t even bring myself to think those words).  
  
“He wear’s a lot of rings,” I finally said. “Probably just getting another one for himself.”  
  
Scott cocked his head and eyed me skeptically. “Okay, just don’t be surprised when it happens.”  
  
“I feel like you should be saying ‘don’t be disappointed when it doesn't happen’.” I retorted and tried to ignore his stare.  
  
“Ellie, you didn’t see him when you were in the hospital that first night. It was clear, over the next few days, that something was different about him. You looked right at him in the ambulance and didn’t know who he was,” Scott paused. “That changes a guy, makes him think, reorganizes his priorities.”  
  
I changed the subject, because honestly, that was making me uncomfortable. I wasn’t going to speculate over a somewhat blurry picture of my boyfriend in a jewelry store in LA.  
  
Now, I certainly had a lot to decide. Do I go to Jamaica with Harry in a couple weeks, or stay in Ottawa to recover a little longer?  
  


 


	30. Jamaica

 I came home from a doctor's appointment one night to find the house empty. I called out for Harry or anyone else that might have been home, with no response. I texted Harry, but heard his phone buzz in our room. 'Typical' I laughed to myself. I walked to the balcony and heard laughter from the beach. It was dark, and they were far away, but I was pretty sure Harry was down there. I slipped into something more beach appropriate and headed down towards the party.

  
"Elloise!!!" I heard Harry belt out my name as he caught a glimpse of me.  
  
"Hey," I waved back, and as I got closer, I realized Harry was wearing...a dress? "What's this?" I laughed and pointed to his outfit.  
  
"A toast!" He ignored my question and held up his beer bottle, the others followed suit. "To you, my dear Ellie, for being my shining north star amidst all this craziness, for leading me...to freedom!"  
  
"Are you on drugs?" I asked as he finished his drink.  
  
"Want one?" He held up a bottle as he grabbed another for himself.  
  
"Sure. Perhaps you should pace yourself a bit, hon," I placed a hand on his arm to steady him as he started to tip over a bit.  
  
"Is this that bikini I got you?" He traced his finger along the strings of the top of my bathingsuit, up my collarbone and around my neck.  
  
"Yes, I thought we might go swimming, but I can see you're not in a good state to swim, or do much else," I looked him over as he wobbled back and forth.  
  
"Nah, I can swim just fine," he set down his beer in the sand and took off toward the water.  
  
"Harry! At least take the dress of first! You'll drown!" I shouted as I ran after him, removing my own dress in the process. Everyone else on the beach seemed to be just as drunk as Harry and didn't care, or thought it was amusing, that he was going to try drunkenly swimming in a dress.  
  
"Nonsense, love, it's just like Dunkirk all over again!" He shouted as he waded into the water. "Nolan had us swimming fully clothed, and I only nearly drowned twice."  
  
I finally caught up to him as we were waist high in the calm ocean. I wrapped my arm protectively around his waist and tried to pull him back. "Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes."  
  
"Oh, I see what you want to do now," he turned to face me and put both arms around me, planting a drunken kiss somewhere near my mouth.  
  
"Let's just get you back up to the house, okay?" I looked up at him and he nodded. "Then we'll see."  
  
  
***  
  
  
"What did you mean last night when you said I was your 'north star'?" I asked.  
  
He blinked a few times. "What?"  
  
"You were kinda drunk, you probably don't remember it, but you said I was your north star, and I had led you to freedom," I explained.  
  
He thought for a moment, with his eyebrows adorably scrunched up as he tried to remember last night. "Sounds like a slavery reference? Like, the underground railroad, and Harriet Tubman? I'm not sure how that applies to me," he laughed and sat up to look at me. "Though, I will say this: you've kept me on track, and heading in the right direction, so, I guess that's what drunken me meant by that. Actually I got you, uh," he stood up and rummaged through his dresser, but seemed to change his mind. He turned around to face me again, his eyes open wide, searching for something. Suddenly his bright green eyes stopped on my hand, and he reached forward to pick it up. "Where did you get that?"  
  
"This?" I pointed to the ring on my left hand. "You gave it to me, last night."  
  
His face was paralyzed in the oddest expression as he tried to piece together his memory of last night. I noticed in his other hand he had the empty black box the ring had come in. "Harry, were you about to propose to me again?" I giggled, and he started to smile.  
  
"I don't remember doing that," he said, and started to laugh, "but yeah, I was." He sat down on the bed next to me and admired the way the ring looked upon my hand.  
  
"Do you remember trying to swim in a dress last night?" I asked, and he laughed.  
  
"I did what? This keeps getting worse..." He shook his head.  
  
"Okay, I'll start from there. You were wearing a dress, I'm not sure why, I wasn't here for that part," I started. "But I brought you inside and got you out of the wet dress and gave you a towel to dry off. While you were drying off, I tried to get some clothes for you, but you would not let me near your dresser. It was pretty funny, actually:  
  
I asked you why, and you said you had a surprise for me.  
  
I said, what is it?  
  
But you said you couldn't give it to me, not yet.  
  
I asked, why not?  
  
That seemed to stump you, and you stared blankly for a moment before you said 'I don't know.'  
  
You looked through your top dresser drawer and found that little black box.  
  
My heart nearly stopped when I saw it, but before I had time to think, you dropped to one knee.”  
  
Harry stared back at me, biting his lip, but grinning. “What did I say?”  
  
“You asked me to marry you,” I shrugged. Wasn’t it obvious?  
  
Harry laughed, and closed his eyes for a moment. “I had a whole thing planned out, of course drunken me had to ruin it.”  
  
“What were you going to do?” I asked.  
  
“Well, I was planning on doing it out on the beach, but I’m too hung over to go out in the bright sun right now,” he started. “I would have told you how much I loved you, and how much I realized I needed you when I thought I might have lost you. I would have told you how much I’ve changed since I met you in that book store in Ottawa over a year ago, and grown to rely on you over the past year. I would have told how I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you, and how my world fell apart the moment you looked up at me and said ‘Harry who?’ I would have told you how much I need you, and I would have asked you to marry me, if you’d have me.”  
  
We both had tears streaming down our faces by the time he finished, his hands holding mine. “I would have answered yes, of course; I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  
  
He leaned in to kiss me, and held me closer for a minute before pulling away, blinking away tears of happiness.  
“I hate to ask, but, is this because I stupidly brought up the that ring when I was in the hospital?” I bit my lip, hoping I hadn’t accidentally pushed him into proposing before he was ready. ”Because that was not what I meant at all, I was not trying to hint at anything…”  
  
Harry shook his head and smiled. “Ellie, I have loved you for a long time. Yes, recent events made me realize that I didn’t want to live without you, but I’d rather realize that soon than later.”  
  
I leaned in and kissed him one more time. “Now mom has two Wilson weddings to plan.”  
  
“You don’t want a double wedding? Like they did in ‘Sense and Sensibility’?” Harry joked (I hope).  
  
“God no, I’ve had to share enough events with Scott, I’m having my own damn wedding,” I laughed. “But honestly, I’d be perfectly happy with a small wedding, just you and I, a couple of friends and family, on a beach or in a field somewhere.”  
  
Harry kissed me again. “That would be beautiful.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the epilogue in chapter 34 (if you want to skip the alternate ending) :D


	31. Harry Who? Part 2 [Alternate Ending]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This alternate ending starts after chapter 27: Harry Who? Part 1.

“Harry who?” She asked and looked over my face carefully, and I felt like I’d been shot. I wanted to hold her in my arms, tell her everything would be okay. I touched her hand and tried to hold it, but she pulled away. I blinked away a few tears and tried to be strong for her, even if she didn’t know who I was.

“One year ago, I came into your bookstore because I was lonely,” I looked into her eyes for some kind of recognition. “You gave me ‘Anne of Green Gables’ to read, except this version had vampires.”

She stared back at me, her eyes wide and tinged with fear. “I don’t know who you are, and I’ve never worked in a book store.”

“Sir, she needs to rest,” the paramedic said, and I leaned back, still staring at Ellie.

We arrived at the hospital a moment later and she was wheeled out of the ambulance. I tried to follow, but they instructed me to go to the waiting room and contact her family.

First, Gemma and mum arrived, and by that evening Scott and her parents had joined us. It seemed like hours before the doctor had any news. No broken bones, but she had, as the paramedic suggested, suffered a severe concussion. She would not be able to see many visitors tonight besides her family, so we went home.

I did not get any sleep, and I was back at the hospital as early as could. Her parents and Scott were in the waiting room sleeping. Scott woke up when I approached him and said it was bad, and her memory did not seem to be improving.

“She asked for Glen,” Scott bit his lip, and it felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

“Her ex-boyfriend?” I stammered, and sat down before I fell over.

“To her, he’s not her ex.” Scott said quietly. “I think she thinks this is that first accident, back in college, where she broke enough bones to sideline her career.”

“But that was-” my voice failed me when I realized how many years were missing from her memory.

“Two and a half years,” Scott finished my sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

“Can I see her,” I croaked, blinking tears from my eyes.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I need to see her,” I stood up. I needed to see for myself that my own girlfriend wouldn’t recognize who I was..

“Okay, but I’m coming with you. I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing you,” Scott led me to her room, and the nurse said it was okay to visit, but don’t let her get upset.

The room was dark, and her eyes were closed. I imagined she would open them, and be the Ellie I had known yesterday. She’d smile, and say she missed me, and ask how filming was going.

But she did not. When she opened her eyes, she saw Scott, and eyed me warily. My throat was too tight to speak, so I let Scott do the talking.

“How are you feeling, Ell?” He asked, and she stared back at us with wide eyes.

“My head hurts,” she answered. She sounded the same, a bit tired, but still the same.

“Ellie, do you know who this is?” Scott asked and her eyes moved to me. They looked me over, and it was just like in the ambulance yesterday: nothing.

“Is he a friend of yours?” She asked, and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck again, over and over.

“Kind of, Ell, this is Harry,” Scott explained.

She stared at me blankly again. “Hi.”

I rushed toward her and tried to take her hands in my own. “Love, it’s me, Harry. Please, tell me you at least recognize me.” I wiped a tear off my cheek, and she pulled her hands away from me so I wouldn’t try to hold them again.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” she answered, and she was starting to look scared. She looked back at Scott for help, so he glanced at me.

I took the hint and moved away from her bed, leaning on the wall near the door. Her eyes kept darting back over to me, and each time it was like a stab in the heart, over and over.

“Ellie, this might be confusing, he’s your boyfriend,” Scott said slowly, and Ellie scrunched up her eyebrows.

“What? No, Glenn and I have been together since freshman year, you know that. Where is he, anyway?” Ellie asked.

“No, Ell, we’ve been out of school for a couple of years now.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Ellie was getting mad now, and the nurse came back in. I’d seen enough and slipped out the door. I was halfway down the corridor by the time Scott caught up to me.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said, and I wiped my eyes again.

“No, I should be apologizing to you. It’s my fault. She was distracted, looking up at me, when-” I couldn’t say it.

“It’s not your fault, you can’t put this on yourself. The doctors don’t know how permanent the damage is yet, so we just need to be patient.” Scott explained. He looked exhausted, and I doubt he’d slept much last night either.

“Let me know if anything changes, I’m going to go. I can’t be here, around her like that, and I’m probably not much help anyway,” I said, and left the hospital.

I visited her every day until I had to return to LA to finish filming ‘Dunkirk’ and each time she had the same reaction. She didn’t recognize me, beyond having seen me the day before. It was too much, too heartbreaking, to have to see her deny knowing who I was day after day. On my last day before I had to leave, I held nothing back.

She had been polite and apologetic about not knowing who I was, saying ‘sorry’ in that cute Canadian way she does. It was usually so endearing, yet now it was excruciating hearing her treat me like a stranger.

“Ellie,” I got on my knees next to her bed and held her hand in my own. She was hesitant, but let me hold her hand, though didn’t try to hold mine back. Tears streamed down my face, and she looked concerned and worried, yet there was no recognition in her stare. “Ellie, I’m begging you. Please, something...I must still be somewhere in that pretty head of yours.”

She shook her head, and pulled her hand away from mine. “No, I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why you keep coming back.”

As a last ditch effort, I thought I’d trying singing for her. Perhaps that would strike a memory better than me crying by her bedside. “I sang a song for you a couple weeks after we first met, nearly a year ago. Do you know the song ‘Hey There Delilah’?” I asked, and she nodded. That was a good sign, right? “If I had my guitar here I’d play it for you, but I’ll just sing it instead.”

“Hey there Elloise, what’s it like in New York City,  
I’m a thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do,  
Time square can’t shine as bright as you, I swear it’s true,  
Hey there Elloise, don’t you worry about the distance, I’m right there,  
If you get lonely give this song another listen, close your eyes….”

“Stop.” She cut me off. Her face was pulled tight with frustration or anger, I couldn’t tell, but she was upset.

“You remember?” I leaned forward and foolishly tried to hold her hand again, but she pulled away quickly.

“No, I don’t know why you think I should remember you, just stop!” She yelled, and I took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I just, I love you so much, and I miss you-” Tears streamed down my face, and I heard a nurse coming to check on her.

“I don’t know who you are, and I never want to see you again!” She sat up and threw her pillow at me, her heart monitor beeped and the nurse rushed in, asking me to leave.

“I’m sorry, but you’re upsetting her, she needs to rest,” she said and tried to calm Ellie down.

I left, not looking back toward her room, and tried to stop the waterfall of tears falling down my face. On my way out I bumped into Scott and her parents in the waiting room.

“I can’t, anymore, it’s too much for me,” I wiped my eyes. “If anything changes, you have my number. I’ll have her stuff sent home, since it’s clear she won’t be staying with me anytime soon.”

After a few goodbyes, that was it. I left, and did not ever plan on hearing from them again.

 


	32. Harry [Alternate Ending]

_'I'd often said to Ellie how much I liked that she had no idea who I was, or cared about One Direction. Now, that was the worst feeling I could have ever imagined.'_

This thought was constantly on Harry's mind. It was almost worse than a breakup, because there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't have a chance to fight for her, to prove himself. She was just gone, and with her, a big part of himself was missing, too.

He was a mess his last few weeks of filming 'Dunkirk' in LA, and he channelled it all into his character. Many of his castmates were sympathetic, since they had met Ellie just weeks earlier when she visited Harry. They often tried to take him out, keep him distracted, but he always ended up either getting too drunk, or doing something else embarrassing in public, like crying.

At least he was staying in the same hotel as his cast mates, so he saw them regularly. He'd tried to go to his house, but just driving there made him think of all the memories he'd had there with Ellie; laying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, cutting his hair...so many memories he couldn't stand to think of in that house by the ocean. Without really planning too far ahead, he put the house on the market. He had someone clean his belongings out for him, and send anything Ellie had left behind to her parents. It was just too much for Harry to deal with.

When filming wrapped, Harry moved on to Jamaica, not wanting to give himself any time off in between. He was afraid that if he remained stationary for too long, it would catch up to him and the weight of the situation he was in would crush him. Instead he threw himself into his album, writing one heartbreaking song after another.

Jamaica became a bit like a never-ending party. Harry wanted to distract himself, and working on his album was exactly the distraction he needed. He had no memories of Ellie here to haunt him, no daily reminder of her clothes in his closet, or her hairbrush on the sink.

As September came to an end, Harry got a shocking reminder of his past: The New York Riveters. They had won their first Isobel cup, and dedicated it to Ellie, even though she had no idea they, or the NWHL, existed.

"Sell the team. I don't care for how cheap, just get rid of it," Harry said to his manager after hearing the news. Then, Harry locked himself in his room and wrote one of the saddest songs on his album.

"Harry," Mitch knocked on his door. "Just checking on you, we haven't heard from you in two days..."

"I'm fine." Harry mumbled, but didn't open the door.

"Uh, well, Jeff - your producer, Jeff Bhasker, not your manager Jeff Azoff - he's going to be here soon, and we have to show him what we've got, and uh..." Mitch paused as he tried to think of the kindest way to say this. "Do you have anything new? Because what we have so far, it's kind of..."

Harry opened the door suddenly, his pink eyes squinting at Mitch. His unwashed hair was a birds nest on his head and distracted Mitch from Harry's apparent disinterest in wearing any clothes. Harry stared for a long moment at his guitarist before mumbling, "okay."

He closed the door and pulled on some clothes before stumbling down to the studio. "Out, I have to finish this." He held up his notebook, and his band members exchanged glances before leaving him alone.

He grabbed his guitar and began working through the lyrics he'd written, putting a melody to the words. He was eventually interrupted as someone came in, and he turned to tell them to leave, but stopped.

"Oh, hey Jeff." He said to his producer.

"That's a nice song you're playing, what's it called?" He asked and sat down across from him.

"Um, I'm thinking 'Two Ghosts', because..." He took a shaky sigh.

"I understand," Jeff put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know this is hard, but it's good to get your feelings out."

"And it'll make a good album, at least, right?" Harry looked up, his bloodshot eyes meeting Jeffs' for the first time. "This album is the only good thing to come out of this. It's...like my goodbye to her, but I don't want to say goodbye. I want to remember our memories together forever. And this album will do that."

Jeff nodded. "Music is a great outlet for these kinds of emotions, and I'm glad you've found a way to deal with it. Yet, I'm worried the mood of your album is perhaps a little too depressing. Have you considered working on some of the earlier songs? Before the break you had some really good songs that might help balance the mood."

"She liked 'Kiwi'." Harry stated.

Jeff ordinarily would have chastised a client for sharing music with someone outside the studio like that, but in Harry's sensitive mindset he thought otherwise. "Why don't we try going through that?" Jeff suggested.

"Maybe tomorrow, this was enough for one day." Harry put his guitar away and returned to his room.

An upbeat song like 'Kiwi' was exactly what Harry needed to lift his mood. He was actually enjoying himself for the first time since that fateful afternoon in an ice arena in Newark over a month ago. Their second time through the song, however, he remembered Ellie's theories behind the chorus. He stopped singing and just stared blankly, and slowly the band stopped playing.

"She asked me if I'd knocked someone up," he said quietly. The room was silent as they waited for his next move. Harry hadn't mentioned Ellie since they had arrived in Jamaica, and no one was quite sure how to respond to this.

"She asked if it was someone from New Zealand, if that was why...kiwi."

She didn't mean to, but his drummer Sarah giggled quietly. Harry turned around to face her, and slowly his mouth slid into a smile. "I thought it was funny, too, because I hadn't thought of that when we named it."

A few of his band mates laughed as well, relieved that the old Harry seemed to be returning. "Why don't we stop for lunch." He announced, and sat in front of the piano, messing around with it until everyone had left.

Jeff stayed behind and watched him, and slowly Harry wrote what would become 'Sign of the Times.' He had nearly finished the song by the time everyone returned from lunch, and one by one they all joined him to work out the song together.

"That was some really great work today, kid," Jeff put his hand in Harry's shoulder as they left the studio that evening, a whole song completed in just a few hours.

"Thanks, I guess I just needed that push to get started again."

"You just needed some time, time to grieve and come to terms with things." He patted him on the back before the two parted ways.

While Harry was certainly feeling like he could at least function like a normal human being again, he was not back to his usual self, and he didn't think he ever would be. He pulled himself together enough to finish the album the next month, and headed home. However, Harry yet again could not bring himself to step foot in his own house.

"Harry, why is there a for sale sign in front of your house?" Gemma asked her brother over the phone.

"I couldn't, I can't go back there."

Gemma was quiet for a moment. She didn't realize her younger brother was so heartbroken. "And where exactly are you living? I thought you'd been home for weeks."

"I'm in a hotel."

"Harry..." Gemma tried to sound sympathetic and not scolding.

"It's nice, they bring me food and do my laundry." He explained.

"Yeah, and so would mum."

"Mum would try to baby me and treat me like I'm made of glass. I won't get better with that kind of attitude." Harry didn't mean to sound upset, but it's true - their mother was sometimes over-motherly.

"Okay, how about you and I have a sibling's-night-in." Gemma suggested. "I was going to call it a girls night in, but you're not exactly a girl."

"No, I'm not, thanks for that keen observation. But, you can still paint my nails if you want; you can't exactly do my hair anymore."

Gemma suddenly remembered last Christmas, when she and Ellie braided Harry’s hair, and tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “We can get drunk and watch movies, or play scrabble! I know how much you love scrabble.”

“Yeah, I guess I should probably get out of this room, for a change.”

“Okay, why don’t you come over tonight, I’ll order us some pizza, and we can have whatever kind of alcohol you want,” Gemma suggested, and Harry agreed.

Well into their pizza and scrabble night, and halfway through a bottle of tequila, Harry was finally able to talk freely to his sister about Ellie. It was such a unique situation, neither of them really knew what to do.

“I feel like I’m grieving for her as if she...died,” Harry said after a pause. “But she’s not dead, she’s still out there somewhere, alive and, as far as I know, well. She’s just missing a few years of her life, the years that include me.”

Gemma put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. “You have to admit, this sounds a bit like your favorite movie, doesn’t it?”

Harry slowly lifted his head to look at her and raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“Well, in ‘The Notebook’ older Ryan Gosling has to remind older Rachel McAdams that they are in love by telling her the story of how they fell in love when they were younger. That’s the point of the notebook, as it has their story in it.” Gemma explained. “Ellie doesn’t have dementia, but it’s a similar idea, right?”

“I guess,” Harry agreed, though he didn’t quite see it that way. The last time he saw Ellie, she’d screamed at him, said she never wanted to see him again. He wasn’t sure he could face that again without completely falling apart again.

“You said you have a few songs about her on the album?” Gemma asked, seeing that Harry didn’t want to talk about that anymore.

“Yeah, most of them, actually.”

“When do we get to hear it?” Gemma asked.

“Soon, I think. They’re still working on it.”

It was quiet again, neither of them paying much attention to the game of scrabble anymore.

“So, where are you going to live if you’re selling your house?” Gemma finally asked.

Harry shrugged. “Right now they’ve put everything in storage, since I don’t own any property anymore.”

“You sold the New York apartment too?”

Harry flinched. “That was the worst one, I had to. She spent the most time there, it was full of too many memories.”

“What did you do with her things?” Gemma asked.

“Her parents and Scott cleaned her stuff out of the New York apartment while they were there after the accident, when she was in the hospital. I had everything else shipped to them.” Harry refilled his glass and took a long sip of tequila.

“How’s she doing, have you heard?” Gemma asked carefully.

“She’s at home now, with her parents. She’s working with a doctor on her memory, but other than that she’s fine.” Harry sounded more monotone that normal.

“Do you know if there’s even a chance-”

“I don’t know,” he cut her off. “I can’t think about that. Scott has my number, he said he’d call if anything changed.”

“So that’s why you watch your phone like a hawk,” Gemma said quietly. The two went off to bed soon after, having had too much tequila to consider continuing their board game, and they didn’t have too much to say to each other after that.

When Harry finally woke up the next morning, Gemma had made him waffles, or tried to at least. Hey eyed them as he sat down at the table, and she shrugged.

“Sorry, I know they’re not like mums, but it’s good enough,” she sat down next to him.

“Thanks,” Harry answered, and dug in. “It’s nice to have food made by someone, and not delivered in a styrofoam box.”

“Glad I could help,” Gemma accepted his somewhat backhanded compliment. “Maybe you can try taking a shower now? That’s meant to be done more than once a week, you know.”

“Just haven’t felt like it,” Harry mumbled and stuffed more waffel in his mouth.

“Come on, you can use my shampoo, it smells absolutely delicious. But don’t eat it, it’s not actually edible, it just smells nice.”

“Fine…” he slowly stood up from the table and brought his plate over to the kitchen sink.

“I”ll grab you some towels, one minute.”

Harry had to admit, her shampoo did smell delicious, and having the hot water wash over head head did feel nice. As he washed up, his eyes caught on something he’d been trying to avoid: the hockey sticks tattoo he got for Ellie a year ago. He ran his fingers of the black markings on his hip, remembering how she had searched his body for the new tattoo. He surprised himself by smiling at the memory, instead of curling up and crying in the shower for hours. He had considered having the tattoo removed, or covered up, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Because things could change. Maybe, one day, they would have their ‘Notebook’ moment, as Gemma put it.

Maybe she’ll come back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn’t intended this alternate ending to have a ‘Notebook’ feel to it, but when I realized how similar they were, I had to mention it! In the other ending, Gemma mentions ‘The Vow’, so I knew it had to be her who pointed out ‘The Notebook’. Though knowing how many times Harry has watched that movie (I think he said 30+) he probably would have figured it out on his own.
> 
> Sorry this is so sad and depressing, trust me it’s not easy to write! (yet I continue writing it…) But it’s fun, in a weird kind of way. It will get happier! I promise!


	33. Ellie [Alternate Ending]

Ellie had been working with a specialist for months to get her memory back, or at least get her back to a spot where she could try relearning about her missing years. By Christmas, she was ready to hear about everything she'd missed at home. Her mom had a lot of pictures to catch her up on what she'd missed. However, there was one thing they left out: Harry.

Any mention of him seemed to upset her, so he wasn't brought up unless necessary. Instead, they showed her the video of the Penguins winning the Stanley cup, of her college graduation, pictures of her first apartment, and that bookstore she'd worked in. Slowly, Ellie was able to piece together the last few years, but their was still a huge part missing: Harry.

On a rainy April afternoon, Ellie was home alone while her parents were out at work. She wanted to fix a button that had fallen off her favorite cardigan, and went searching for her mother's sewing kit. She thought it might be in the spare bedroom, but when she opened the door, she found the room was filled with boxes, boxes with her name on it.

'That's odd...' she thought and opened the first box: clothes. Clothes she did not recognize. She opened the next box, and the next few boxes: all clothe she did not recognize. She pulled an 'ugly Christmas' sweater out of one box and laughed, because she knew she'd never worn one of those before. She opened the rest of the boxes one by one, and they contained various things, mostly random stuff and odds and ends, most of which she had no memory of.

'This must be from the missing years,' she thought, and decided she was feeling well enough to go through some of the stuff. She pulled each item out and looked at it, trying to spark some kind of recognition. For most of them, it was a bit like having deja vu, except she couldn't recall the first time she'd seen them.

She came across a bunch of letters tucked away in the bottom of a box, and the handwriting on the envelopes felt so familiar it almost made her cry. 'But why? Why do I know this handwriting?' she thought, and carefully slipped the letter from the first envelope.

Dear Ellie, May 21, 2016  
I thought I would write you a letter, as if I were actually a soldier in WWII. Sure, we text every day, but I thought it would be more realistic, and romantic. Writing love letters is something that should never have gone out of style (no pun intended)....

....Love, Your Frog Prince

Ellie put the letter down and felt her eyes stinging with tears. 'Who is my Frog Prince?' She wasn't sure why she felt this way, but she had to keep reading. There were about fifteen letters, and she read them all carefully and with anticipation, hoping something would spark her memory. Whoever this guy was, he loved very much, and judging by the pain in her heart, she had loved him too.

When she got to the last letter, she saw it was unopened. Thinking that was strange, Ellie checked the date on the post mark: it had been delivered the day she received her concussion. 'So, even pre-memory loss Ellie had not read this' she thought as she looked the envelope over. Thinking there could be no harm in it, she tore the envelope open and read his last letter.

It was just like the others: cute, but contained many references she didn't understand. And like the others, he hadn't signed his name! Each time it was something different, like Frog Prince, or 'Your very damp soldier', which made no sense to Ellie, or even just 'H'. She wracked her brain to think of any boy she might have known with the first initial of 'H' but no one stood out, or fit the other qualifiers mentioned in the letters.

Not wanting to give up on them, Ellie brought the letters back to her room and read them on a daily basis. Each time she looked for something new, something to trigger her memories of this 'Frog Prince', but there was nothing. She just kept falling deeper in love with this mystery man.

 

Ellie sat at the bus stop listening to music on her phone as she waited for the bus. She absent mindedly looked at the ads posted in the bus stop, and as usual, it was nothing interesting.  
'Wait,' she looked back at the poster to her left. 'That's him.'

She stood up and walked over to get a closer look. He was wearing a light blue suit, and he appeared to sitting in pink water. The ad was for Harry Styles' new album, out May 12th.  
May 12, that was...yesterday. Ellie quickly hopped on itunes and downloaded his album without thinking about it. She did not fully understand why, but she was compelled to hear it immediately.

She sat on the bus home listening to his album, one song at a time, and nearly missed her stop. She didn't care that strangers saw her having some kind of emotional fit each time she realized a reference in a song

'Meet me in the hallway' she kept thinking, over and over, as she tried to remember why that should mean something to her. She had a feeling that it had something to do with standing on top of a building, but nothing quite added up.

She nearly cried hearing 'Two Ghosts' because somehow, inevitably, she knew it was about her. 'How did he know how empty she felt?'

The line 'can't take you home to mother in a skirt that short' from 'Only Angle' was familiar. Someone had said that to her once, but she couldn't quite figure out who, or when.That ugly Christmas sweater she'd found in one of the boxes came to mind for some reason.  
When 'Kiwi' started playing she stopped dead in her tracks. She'd heard this song before. Months before, maybe even a year ago. Bits and pieces came flashing back at her, and she recalled asking someone if he'd knocked a girl up, maybe a girl from New Zealand.

Ellie got off at her stop and stood still as 'Ever Since New York' played, and she was reminded of a week spent in New York with her mystery Frog Prince, a week that changed them somehow. She walked home and went straight to her room to find those letters. Listening to the album on repeat, she re-read the letters, and slowly things started to come back. Not everything, just bits and pieces, and feelings of memories.

She texted Scott, but of course he was preparing for a game and would not see his phone until later. Ellie sighed, and put the letters away, and left to join her parents in the living room to watch Scott's game together.

 

The Penguins game against the Ottawa Senators was particularly tense in the Wilson household, because Ottawa was their home team, but Scott played for the Pens. The game was pretty intense, and ended up going into sudden death overtime. The Pens played hard, but in the end Ottawa scored, ending the game with a 2-1 lead.

Devastated by the loss, Scott and some of his teammates went out for a drink after the game. It was only game one of the semi-finals, but a loss is not a good way to start a playoff series. By the time he got home, his phone was dead and he was too tired to notice Ellie's message.  
The next morning he was awoken by his phone buzzing, with Ellie's face showing up on the caller ID. "Hello?" He croaked, his head still fuzzy from last night.

"Scott!!" Ellie shouted. "Why didn't you tell me I dated Harry Styles??"

He sat up straight in bed and shook his head to clear his thoughts, making sure head heard her correctly. "Sorry, what?"

"My Frog Prince, it's Harry Styles, isn't it?"

Scott didn't know what to say. "I don't really know what to say, but, yes." He had no idea what she was talking about, but assumed it was a nick-name she'd had for him.

"His album, Scott, I remember. Not everything, but I remember," she sounded like she was crying, and he realized how hard this must be for her.

"Okay, I will let him know-" Scott started.

"You have his number?!?!" Ellie interrupted.

 

Harry was quite busy. He'd had countless interviews, a secret concert, dozens of phone calls. So when he had five minutes to himself, he was a little ticked off when his personal cell rang.  
"What?" He grumpily answered the phone.

It was quiet. "Is this Harry?"

He froze. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. But could it really be her? Was the stress of releasing an album catching up to him, and his mind was playing tricks on him?

"Yes," he said quietly, and felt his breath hitch as his heart sped up.

"So it's really you, my Frog Prince. You're the one who wrote the letters," Ellie said, and Harry felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

"Yes, I'm your Frog Prince," he laughed, and wiped a tear off his cheek. "Ellie, you're back? All of you?"

"Not quite. But now that I've found you, it's like a huge part of me has returned, and everything makes so much more sense now."

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself. He knew he had a lot of media obligations over the next few days, but he would do whatever it took to see Ellie again as soon as possible. "Where are you?"

"I'm at my parents' in Ottawa. But Harry?"

Hearing her say his name was like getting a reviving shock to the part of his heart that had been dormant since Ellie's concussion. "Yes?"

"Aren't you busy with your new album? I wouldn't want to get in the way..."

"Ellie, without you there wouldn't be an album. Trust me, I can make time for you."

He had to leave soon for his next interview, and instructed his assistant to schedule him on the next flight to Ottawa.

 

It was very late when Harry finally made it into Ottawa. He rushed to the place where he and Ellie had decided to meet up and hoped she hadn't been waiting too long. It only made sense that this was where they would meet again, since it was where it had all started, a year and a half ago.

She was standing in an aisle, holding a book, when she heard him approach. The book fell from her hands when their eyes met and she froze. Harry moved closer, but not too close, remembering how she'd yelled at him the last time he saw her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms again, but he didn't want to do this wrong and scare her off.

He picked up the book she had dropped. "'Anne of Green Gables'. I don't know why I should have expected anything different," he smiled and handed it back to her.

"I don't think this is the version with vampires, though," Ellie smirked and put the book back on the shelf.

Harry couldn't stop the tears from flowing down his face, and Ellie rushed closer to hug him. "It's really you," he whispered. "You're back."

"Mostly. I don't remember everything specifically, but the feeling is there. It's like when you wake up from a vivid dream that leaves a feeling behind that you just can't get out of your head."  
Harry finally leaned back out of their hug. "I have something that might help. Do you still like Chinese food?"

"Of course," Ellie smiled.

"Come with me," he took her hand and led her out of the book store and into the hotel next door. He'd had his driver set up a surprise for them, and Harry hoped it wasn't too cold. "This is where we stayed, when we were in town."

"Who?" Ellie asked.

Harry paused for a moment. "That's right, you didn't know about One Direction."

"Oh, yeah. No I know who that is, now." Ellie answered, and they climbed on the elevator. "You guys broke up soon after we met, right?"

Harry nodded, and couldn't stop smiling. They took a staircase at the end of a hallway up to the roof, and Harry saw their table waiting for them. There were candles, two wine glasses, and of course, the white chinese food boxes. "Does this feel familiar to you?"

Ellie slowly walked toward the table, Harry close behind, and stared down at the city below. "Yes, kind of. 'Meet me in the Hallway', that song..." she turned back to look at him.

"I texted you to meet me in the hallway before we came up on the roof." He pulled out a chair for her and sat down next to her. "So you've heard the album?" He poured them both a glass of wine, before they both got into the Chinese.

Ellie nodded, and finished chewing on her General Tso's. "I saw an ad at the bus stop, and remembered you from the hospital all those months ago. So I bought your album immediately, and as soon as I heard your voice, it brought back so many feelings, and memories."

"If I'd known that was all it would take..." Harry joked, but he could still see her in that hospital room, telling him to stop singing 'Hey there Elloise' to her.

"Harry, I've missed you. I knew something was missing, I just didn't realize what, or how important it was," Ellie reached over and held his hand.

"I've missed you too, El, more than you can imagine." He knew it would take time, for the two of them to get to know each other again. They spent the next few hours on that roof top talking and catching up, until Harry's driver came to retrieve him.

"I'll be in LA for the next week, is there any chance I can ask you to join me?" Harry asked Ellie as they left the rooftop.

"Um," Ellie paused, and Harry worried he'd taken it too fast. "This is embarrassing, but I'll have to check with my parents first. They've been very protective of me lately..."

"Of course, I get it. I don't want to push too much on you at once," Harry nodded.

"Harry, before you go, I have one question. I can't remember if this is something I'm getting mixed up or if it's real, but, do you have a tattoo of crossed hockey sticks?" Ellie asked, and Harry grinned.

"I absolutely do, El, and do you remember where it is?" Harry realized it sounded like he was flirting, something he hadn't done in over a year in a half.

Ellie gave him a cheeky grin and reached over to lift up his shirt, pulling the waistband of his black skinny jeans down far enough to reveal the tattoo he'd gotten for her on his hip.

He carefully leaned down to kiss her gently, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“I don’t want to let go of you, ever,” he said, with his arms entwined around her. “I don’t want to lose you again.” He blinked, but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing from his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry,” Ellie replied, face still firmly planted in his shoulder.

He reluctantly pulled away when his driver reminded him he needed to get to the airport. “I’ll see you soon, in LA.”

He kissed her goodbye, and for the first time since that fateful afternoon in August, Harry finally remembered what it feels like to have a heartbeat.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me forever to come up with a way to wrap up this chapter, but then I remembered ‘Two Ghosts’ and though it was perfect!!!!


	34. Christmas 2017 - Love Actually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This contains the same event portrayed in both the normal ending and the alternate ending. I hope that’s not confusing, sorry!
> 
>  

“You ready to watch ‘Love Actually’ again?” Harry sat down on the couch between Ellie and Gemma.

“Of course, it’s become a Christmas tradition,” Gemma answered.

“Wait, first we have to open presents,” Anne interrupted them, and they exchanged gifts.

“Open mine first,” Harry handed a box to his mom.

“Well, it’s from us,” Ellie corrected and smiled at Harry.

“You never change, Harry, so impatient,” Anne laughed and took the box. “Let’s see if I can open it before he accidentally tells me what it is.”

Harry smiled bashfully and bit his lip to keep from doing just that. He watched her carefully as she slipped the top off the box and her face lit up in a smile as she pulled a picture frame out of the box. “Aww, your wedding picture? Thank you,” Anne wiped away a few tears and gave them both a kiss. “It was so beautiful that day; August is the perfect time for an outdoor wedding. You were so beautiful, both of you; absolutely glowing.”

“Thanks,” Ellie leaned into Harry and smiled, and he wrapped his arm around her.

“How could I not be, next to a girl like this?” He kissed her head and Ellie blushed.

“Says the man who wore a million dollar suit,” Ellie laughed.

“It wasn’t quite that much,” Harry defended.

“A suit that no one’s going to see you wear besides the few guests you had, since you kept it private.” Gemma added. “To think your fans thought you had just disappeared, and complained you weren’t promoting ‘Two Ghosts’.”

“I guess you could say we became two ghosts, and disappeared,” Harry joked, and both Gemma and Ellie rolled their eyes.

“You’d better get used to that, hon,” Anne said to Ellie, and Ellie nodded at her new mother-in-law.

“It’s his unique charm,” Ellie teased, and looked back at her husband.

“You’re too kind,” he answered, and kissed her cheek.

“You guys are gross,” Gemma teased.

“You’re just jealous!” Harry retorted with a grin.

“No, though I am jealous you got Ed Sheeran to sing for your first dance together. ‘Thinking out Loud’ is perfect for a wedding,” Gemma sighed. “Do you think he’d sing at my wedding? Whenever I get married?” She added and glanced at her mother to reassure her there were no more secret weddings coming up in the Styles household.

“What?” Harry scoffed. “What about me?”

“I don’t want my brother to sing at my wedding,” Gemma laughed. “Besides, you’d get really emotional.”

“That’s true,” Harry agreed, and the rest nodded, remembering how many times they’d had to stop the ceremony because Harry had started crying again.

“What would you even sing, ‘Kiwi’?” Gemma asked rhetorically and both Harry and Ellie nearly choked as the took a sip of the hot chocolate Anne had brought them moments ago.

“Umm, no,” Harry started once he’d stopped laughing. “That’s not really a wedding appropriate song.”

“Not really appropriate in general,” Anne added quietly, and Gemma snickered.

“I think ‘Sweet Creature’ would make sense,” Harry continued, ignoring his mom’s comment.

“Aww that would be cute,” Anne said and looked between her two children and her daughter-in-law. “You guys are going to make me cry.”

“Alright, time for the movie,” Gemma hopped up to grab ‘Love Actually’.

“This is, what, our third time watching this together?” Harry asked Ellie, pulling her closer on the couch so she was right next to him.

“Yup. We saw it once when we were dating, once when we were engaged, and now we’re married, so that’s three times,” Ellie counted the times they’d seen ‘Love Actually’ of on her fingers.

“I like that pattern,” Harry commented.

“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow, not catching what Harry was trying to say.

“Just, you know, there seems to be a change each time...maybe next year, there will be a different kind of change,” he raised his eyebrows a few times, but she didn’t get it.

“What could possibly come next?” She asked. “You think we’ll be divorced?” She added quietly.

“No,” Harry laughed, “I was thinking something more positive than that, maybe, an addition….”

Ellie nodded. “Like a dog.”

“I wasn’t thinking a dog, actually,” Harry started.

“Best dog ever. Remember that?” Ellie interrupted and they both laughed.

“Right, we can get the best dog ever, and maybe we’ll talk about that other positive addition some other time,” Harry patted her knee and turned his attention back to the movie, but Ellie leaned in to talk to him.

“Actually, Harry, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” she said quietly.

Harry whipped around to face her and felt his heart beating in his throat. “What?” He asked breathlessly and glanced down at her stomach, though the thick ugly Christmas sweater blocked his view.

“I saw the cutest dog the other day-”

Harry interrupted her with a loud sigh as he finally exhaled. “Ellie...wording,” he tried to slow his racing heart.

“Whatever. Anyway, I saw the cutest dog and I really wanted to get it, so I won’t be alone when you go on tour this spring.”

“You won’t be alone, you’re coming with me,” he smiled back at her.

“Again? I didn’t think you’d want me around for the whole thing, I’d just get in the way.”

“Nonsense, luv, you’re my wife; of course I want you to come on tour with me. We had so much fun last time, didn’t we?” Harry asked.

“It was fun. And when we get back,” Ellie snuggled closer to her husband. “Maybe then we can talk about that ‘other positive addition’ you keep hinting at.”

 

_________________________________________________________

 

_**Alternate Ending:** _

Harry and Ellie sat on the couch in front of the television at her parent’s house. Snow fell in the cold Ottawa winter outside, but the crackling fireplace kept them warm. As the end credits scrolled on ‘Love Actually’ Harry turned to see if Ellie had any kind of reaction.

“Do you remember watching that? Two years ago, at my mum’s house...you and Gemma braided my hair?” Harry tried to jog her memory, but Ellie shook her head.

“I don’t, but I’m sure I liked watching it just as much the first time around,” Ellie turned to him with a smile.

Her mother entered with hot chocolate for the two of them. “Don’t you look cute in your matching sweaters,” she said as she handed them their mugs. “Dinner will be ready soon, and Vivian is just picking up Scott at the airport, so they’ll be here in about half an hour.”

“Thanks, mom,” Ellie smiled, and her mom returned to the kitchen where she and Ellie’s dad were cooking.

“I feel like I’m intruding on your family Christmas,” Harry said quietly to Ellie.

“Why? You said last time, we went to your mom’s house for Christmas, so for our second first Christmas together, we can do at with my parents’,” Ellie smiled and tried to reassure Harry. “I’m sure I felt like I was intruding, too.”

“I guess. But I feel like your parents don’t like me very much. Like, maybe they hold me responsible for-”

“No, not at all. They don’t blame anyone, because it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Ellie cut him off.

“But they wouldn’t let you go on tour with me this fall,” Harry added, and looked down at the little marshmallows in his hot chocolate.

“They didn’t say I couldn’t go, considering I am an adult, but with my concussion not completely healed they thought it would be better if I didn’t. And, they’re right, because bright lights and loud sounds are not good with concussions. I’m getting better, though,” Ellie added.

“Really? Like, maybe good enough you could come on the second leg of the tour with me?” Harry’s eyes lit up, and he leaned a little closer to her.

She shrugged. “I can’t say for sure, but if I continue making progress, it is very possible.”

Harry smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “That makes me happier than you know. After I got you back this spring, I didn’t want to let you go; having to go on tour on my own and leave you behind was so hard for me.”

“I visited, but I know, it was hard for me too. But we have the whole winter together, right?”

“Yes, luv,” he kissed her forehead. “I have to work on my next album, but other than that it’s just you and I.”

“You’re next album? So what’s this one going to be about, if the last one was about losing your girlfriend?” Ellie asked.

“I guess it’ll be about getting her back,” Harry smiled.

“What a lucky girl; Harry Styles has written not one, but two albums about her,” she grinned. “I’m hoping this one will have some happier songs?”

“No, they’re probably going to be pretty depressing, you know…” He joked, and earned a light smack from Ellie.

“So, in the movie, that guy - the older guy who gets naked at the end?” She asked.

“Billy Mack?”

“Yes, his Christmas song was one of his hits, turned into a Christmas song. So, if you have to make one of your songs a Christmas song, which one would it be?” Ellie asked and bit her lip.

“One of my songs, or One Direction?” Harry raised his eyebrows.

“Just yours.”

“Jesus, um….” He thought for a minute, then broke out into song. “Just stop your crying it’s Christmas time!”

Ellie giggled and fell onto Harry. “That is not what I was thinking, but that works.”

“What were you thinking of?” He asked.

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know, but that would be the saddest sounding Christmas song ever.”

“Maybe I’ll just do a Christmas album next,” Harry joked.

Ellie laughed and leaned on his shoulder. “When One Direction gets back together, you guys can do a Christmas album; that’d be cute.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys would go for that,” Harry joked. Their banter was interrupted by the arrival of Scott and his wife Vivian.

“Nice to see you again, Harry,” Scott gave Harry a bro-hug as Ellie helped Vivian with her suitcase.

“It’s nice to be back,” Harry replied. “And to have her back.”

The two watched Ellie and Vivian talk for a moment before Scott turned back to Harry. “She has improved so much; you can’t know how much you’ve helped her.”

“That’s good to hear,” Harry smiled. “I was worried it would be the opposite. I still feel responsible, somehow…”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Scott shook his head. “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to her.”

“Whether that’s true or not, she is certainly the best thing that’s happened to me,” Harry replied as Ellie returned to his side.

“Were you talking about me?” She gave him a suspecting look and nestled into his side. Scott left the two alone and joined Vivian in the kitchen with his parents.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry luv,” Harry leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I was just saying how much I need you, and I never want to lose you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry,” she returned his kiss and entwined her arms around him so they were connected. “I’ll be right here, always.”

Ellie heard Harry sniffling and looked up at him. She wiped a tear off his cheek and said, “Stop you crying, it’s Christmas time.”

This brought a laugh out of Harry, and he blinked away the remaining tears. “Come on, let's’ go get dinner before I accidentally write that Christmas album.”

“I can just see it now: ‘Harry Styles Writes World’s Most Depressing Christmas Songs Ever’.” Ellie teased, and the two giggled as the door to the kitchen swung shut behind them. The two settled in at the dinner table for what would be the first of many Christmas dinners for the pair in Ottawa, beside the crackling fireplace and the falling snow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put the two endings in the same chapter since they happen at the same time, but on different plot lines (an AU, I guess)
> 
> So this is the end : (
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!! :D


	35. Sequel Announcement

The sequel to this story can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516946/chapters/33539904

Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading/commenting/voting, I hope you enjoy the story! : )


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